See-nior later 2018

It would be all too cliché for me to sit here as a “blogger” and gaze back through the ghost of my 2018, reflect on my year with rose-tinted glasses and reel off a bullet point list of my 2019 goals.

Yet, here we are, nearing the end of December and it took me only the third word of this page to mention 2018. If you wait here long enough, the 2019 “goal” might come in another post.

In any case, I very much abandoned any desire to avoid being such a cliché in both my post about the quarter-life crisis and the fact I went against all my insta-loathing reservations and started a running page in a shameless bid to become insta-famous. I share my times with photos of me running and even throw in the odd desperate #ThrowbackThursday back to that one time I ran well at a half marathon a few years ago. I hate myself for it, but I would really like some free trainers.

However, let’s recap…

  • I left a sports PR job in December 2017 where I still have nightmares of my line manager e-mailing to get the milk again.
  • I ate an ice-cream bigger than my head on a solo bike ride to Italy’s Dolomites.
  • Grew to love my new PR role at an engineering firm and realised PR is what I wanted to do.
  • Ate another ice-cream in Portugal.
  • Found a flat and got incredibly excited at the prospect.
  • Lost the flat.
  • Ate another ten ice creams in Majorca.
  • Moved into my first rental flat that happened to be just a few hundred yards away from my family home.
  • Left that flat and never bloody looked back.
  • Signed up for my first ever marathon and haven’t been able to get over the excitement since.

You can probably tell from the above, that eating ice cream in 2018 seems to somewhat overshadow the negative events of 2018, pushing them down to the narrow end of the cone to long be forgotten.

Don’t get me wrong, I have learnt a lot from the negative, but on the one hand, at least now I can finally migrate towards the world of London’s N8 and live forever (until the contracts ends) in the depths of Crouch End – sorry, Enfield.

I’ve got myself two house share viewings that I am exceptionally excited for, not least for the new coffee shops, breakfast bars and shorter commute to work, but genuinely because I have now virtually exhausted every single path in Enfield to run on, out to about a 10-mile radius.

Since you’re here, it’s perhaps also worth mentioning that I can actually afford a spot in a house share, because you are now looking at WSP’s 2019 SENIOR PR Executive. Yes, that’s right. That’s a promotion title. Thank you, good night.

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