This is what I should be doing. This would benefit me in many ways, it would help me with the whole journalism thing, it would help me with my blogging and it would help me not feel like ripping my hair out because I have to master the ability of writing at 100 words a minute.
Shorthand has taken over my life and sadly it is a necessary thing to pass the course (the exam is this Friday!) and also a requirement of many, many places.
Wait, you say. You already have a job at your local paper, you say. And I would smile at you with a painful smile and say: “alas I do but I still need my 100 words a minute, I have to have it. It is an expectation.” Then I would hang my head out of exhaustion and the reluctance to face up explaining further as I lock myself in a room and listen to shorthand passages about pubs called The Rose and Crown and planning permission for an old folk’s home.
Shorthand is taking over my life. I seem to have reached my limit somewhere just before the 100. When people speak to me I see the shorthand symbols coming out of their mouths like some weird, journalistic Alice in Wonderland experience. I am practising until either my hand hurts or my brain cannot take any more words and so I can no longer understand what is being said.
If I fail this exam I will carry on until I can retake it in two weeks time, like a weary traveller because that’s how I feel. If I pass, I will rejoice with the biggest celebration I can contemplate in my tired mind, it sounds almost too good to be true: cheesecake, wine and the boy. Perfect.