This time next year….
It’s been a bit of a different Christmas this year.
I got (in no particular order)
One tube of mini Rolos
One pack of After Eights
And a finger motorbike from secret Santa. (Thanks Adam)
I’ve seen family and friends and heard all about their promotions and pay rises,
property deals and asset portfolios, and it’s all very impressive. Well done.
“Did you get anything nice for Christmas?” They ask.
“And what are you doing these days?” They ask.
To be honest at times I’ve found it a little embarrassing to say I‘m at school, that
I’ve not earned a wage in a very long time and yes, my family is currently being
propped up by the government.
When I told them about the holiday brief we’d been set of nine Sun headlines, and
six poster campaigns it was met with an uncomfortable silence.
Then I started to find it funny, so I began to embellish some stories to make it
sound worse, and it all got a bit awkward.
The truth is, I know they think I’m a long way back, but they can’t see what I can
I’m having a ball.
I love that I don’t know where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing next Christmas. I love it
because I know that it could well be further than I could possibly imagine in every
Right now, I’m here because I want to be.
This is a year that will enable me (and my 36 comrades) to achieve what we could
never have achieved without it.
Our time will come.