Since my last post, a lot has happened. Google got glasses. The world welcomed a royal baby—which,
according to your idea of “royalty” could be either Prince George, Blue Ivy or
North West (Lord, I hope that kid is not directionally challenged). And, I survived grad school.
After 24 months of papers, assignments and multiple
after-school beers, I received my $24,000 receipt: a master’s degree in
journalism.
With my purchase complete, I am once again facing the
question that haunted my undergrad: “What’s next?” Every wedding, family
reunion or casual run-in seems to bring up this query, but no
matter how many times people ask, I still have not figured out the answer.
I thought maybe I could put my newly-minted reporting skills to good use and
write for a major publication. Or I could fly out to the India and freelance the tales of my motherland. Or
maybe I'd just end up in my parent’s basement for a bit.
It's been seven months since graduation and so far, I have checked off every one of these "maybes."Step one of "figuring out real life" complete.
Step two is to get back to writing for fun, not for grades
or a paycheque.
And that brings me to step three. Hope you’re all ready for A Little (More) Ish.
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