The bus; you wait all day for one, give up, and they all come at once.

Around late March, I had a panic attack.

I suddenly realised the unstructured structure of my student life was going to be rudely interrupted by graduating and the thing adults call The Real World.

After I’d stopped hyperventilating,  used half my monthly allowance of minutes sobbing on the phone to my mother about my life being over and closed down my open tabs (Facebook,  email, twitter, BBC Iplayer), I set about job hunting.

I put on my metaphorical colonial inspired hunting hat, cocked my rifle and became a job hunter.  The jungle of the Internet is a hard place to navigate if you don’t know where to start. There’s all sorts of monsters out there ready to promise you a job, write your CV and take all your money too.

Grad recruitment sites such as milkround and Reed are helpful.

I you’re interested in media related job, the internet, particularly Twitter, is invaluable. They have great people to follow including @mediamuppet, @bbccareers, @medianation and @guardianjobs.

Anyway,  after months of listless waiting and I managed to secure a work internship in Bangalore, India for two months.  I was obviously made up. Exotic country, working for a national paper, who wouldn’t be?

But then I started getting inauduated with job interviews and offers. Even though many of them would be amazing,  I’ve had to turn down every one. Almost makes me resent the opportunities I have!

It’s hard to keep in mind how lucky you are when you see other opportunities pass you by. I just try to  remember that if I can’t do it, it’s probably the wrong bus for me anyway.

Anyway,I’m set to begin my internship in India come Monday. I’m nervous and all the rest but it should be a real experience.  I’ll keep you updated.

Id rather not settle, and perhaps I’ll take a longer route to where I want to be. It’s easy to get comfortable. When I get there though, to my final destination, you can forget the bus, i’ll have realised my dreams and that is equivalent to having a bloody private jet.

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