Every day in the news people dying, wars, tragedies, real human suffering. You may feel sorry for them, but you just turn the page and it's all over. How is it then that the griefs and terrors and joys of fictional heroes in novels affect us as deeply, as truly, as our own?
Funny that "objective" "unbiased" writing can make even reality seem more distant and artificial than the worlds of fantasy...

Why cheap plasters are not a good idea..

Well, it's simple.
Because if, like me, you cut yourself for the second time in 10 minutes and have to rush to your room, while bleeding all over the place, you may have to spend an eternity trying to release a cheap Tesco plaster from its annoyingly stubborn package, destroying three because you cant use your right hand properly, for obvious reasons...

Then, finally, you return victoriously to the kitchen, only to discover that your lunch no longer resembles anything edible, and end up relying purely on your own blood as a source of protein, since you can't risk cutting more salad. So, better invest in a pack of expensive ones next time. They will probably last you a long long time anyway- unless you're like me, that is.

Ok it's been a long long time. But it went by so fast. This term is almost over and I still don't feel at all like a journalist. Interviews remain a source of extreme anxiety. The future is foreign territory, I don't even want to go nearer.
But we're ok I suppose, been through worse.