I have started this week buried like a bookworm in the cavernous Leeds University Library. The vast expanse spread out before me, acres of  books piled high, towering over me.  As me and Francine passed through security gates of high demand books I felt like a criminal, the eyes of the man behind the desk followed us, seemingly implying we were about to snatch one of these high value books; it would be quite a money spinner, stealing the most expensive books and selling them out of a van À la Del Boy and Rodney. It would appear the man behind the desk would have good reason to be suspicious, as we scanned out our books and attempted to leave the alarm roared, and the swinging gates locked shut; we were in fact terrorists, and a huge security theft. Now it was all the eyes in the library staring us, BOOK THIEVES….I only wanted a four hour loan!! After the misunderstanding was cleared we swiftly began our ascent, climbing stair after stair, vainly looking for somewhere that wasn’t silent study. So this was where I spent my Monday, tucked away in one of the many ‘caves’ of silent study, thumbing through ethics books, and licking yoghurt off a spoon; it is these ‘shhhh silence’ situations that I find the hardest, you almost want to make noise, huffing and puffing, just so the people around you know how bored you are. I imagined what it would be like to live in the library, hiding in the stacks as it gets locked up, sleeping in the children’s section; apparently Sheffield uni library even has its own showers. I could live of a diet of leftover food scraps, and suck moisture from the books, it is at this point you realise you have been in the library too long.Eventually I gave up and decided our time would be better spent applying for ‘Coach Trip;’ so we finished the application, found an embarrassing picture off Facebook to send in, and popped it in an envelope; our fates were sealed along with it.

There is that dreaded day in my coursemates life, the day you realise you have to edit tomorrow, and still have nothing to edit; you quickly dash around cobbling together interviewees and blend it into something half decent. For me, that day was today. The sun blinked from behind a cloud as I left my house, my jeans were optimistically rolled into turn-ups, hoping the day would follow suit, sadly it did not! There were various excuses for why the general public wouldn’t talk to me, too busy, in a rush, one salon owner even claimed I couldn’t interview him because he was a professional actor; after just half an hour of traipsing the streets I had already had enough, the people of Hyde Park hate me.
Like a stalker I would lurk just slightly in the shadows, scanning the street for a potential sound bite, when my prey was selected I would lunge, microphone in hand, not giving them time to think; the excuse of ‘I’m in a rush’ seemed a bit ironic as watched the elderly people who had said it amble away into the distance, I am just not cut out for a career in journalism. As I entered a local garage two burly men approached me, stained with oil, and barking what did I want, I feebly tried to explain but was told an interview was off the cards. I asked one of them ‘What do you think about crime in Hyde Park,’ his response: ‘Well I’ve never been caught.’ To add insult to injury I even lost my professional edge, just when I had the perfect person I realised I had stood in a present, left by the canine world; I scraped my foot on the grass having lost my all dignity, then decided to call it a day. That incident summed it up nicely. The afternoon improved as I nabbed interviews from my neighbours and decided my piece needed some sounds; me and Francine had great fun smashing glass and throwing bricks, we anticipated every move of a potential burglar and tried to recreate this for radio. All we need now are stripey jumpers, and swag bags with dollar signs; a new career prospect?

An early night’s sleep is needed, I will be up at the crack of dawn finding yet more people to talk to! I wish you goodnight and warn you not to leave everything to the last minute; however this is how I always have, and always will live, on the edge of a knife blade.One good thing from all this is I actually forgot to eat for most of today; I briefly slurped down a nut-tastic Frappuccino on the terrace, but that was it until this evening….forget WeightWatchers, eat some stress for breakfast.