I find it hard to believe as I board my train to Paddington from sunny Devon that I’m already into my second week of my placement. I probably should have written this blog somewhat earlier than I did but after learning that Mr Murdoch can set up an impressive bar tab, suffering a night plagued by fire alarms and Don Mclean (honestly, don’t ask, it felt like I was in a horrific movie of mind games) and drinking far too many stress relieving cocktails than I probably should have, my weekend at home has just evaporated into a hazy blur and I seem to have woken up more tired on Monday morning than I did on Friday.
For the record, I spent my Friday immersed in the planning department once more, researching lots of Olympics related pub-quiz style trivia for a graphic they’re planning on running. Now I now exactly how many button’s will feature in the opening ceremony, how many portaloos there will be and exactly how many LEDs will be used, which strangely I feel could be a good party trick when I return home this weekend. I would tell you the answer, but I guess you’ll just have to watch Sky on Friday to find out. Nothing like a good plug for the work you’ve been doing, hey?
Wild guess? Answers on a post card please.
However, the wonderful six hour commute from Devon did finally give me the chance to reflect on my first week in the land of Rupert Murdoch and I’ve come to several conclusions about my first week in the big city, some more trivial than others;
Sky is a actually a really nice place to work, albeit a bloody hard slog
I’ve spoken to a lot of Sky employees this week and a lot of them seem to have been at Sky for a very long time and we’re not just talking a year or two here – eight, ten or even fifteen years seems to be perfectly normal here. Whilst I understand that the jobs market is very much stagnated at the moment, surely the fact still stands that if it was a horrible place to work people would leave. There also seems to be a lot of movement and progression if you’ve got talent and the drive. I’ve met so many people who were runners or something lowly who are now editors or cameramen. This said, it is a hell of a lot of work. Even as the work experience girl I’ve come to appreciate the fact that long hours are just part and package of the job. Strangely though, even as a person who finds any time pre-8am abhorrent, this hasn’t put me off. I’d get up at 6.30am any day of the week for a job like this.
London really isn’t that bad..
I’ve got to be honest, I’ve always avoid London like an onset of the plague, and it’s been one of the things that’s caused me the most anguish about my choice in career. But it has to be said there is something in the city that gets you, even though I’m not quite sure what it is yet. I don’t think they’ll ever be anything quite like a Devonshire summers day, but a life in the fast lane isn’t half as bad as I’d first thought. My favourite game, smiling at Londoner’s and looking at their confusing faces, is even coming to fruition. I’ve yet to find someone in a good mood on the tube yet, but the people on the street seem to have cheered up no ends from the grumpy, heartless stereotype.
I should swear less in this blog, my lecturers read this.
Finally, after revisiting everything I’ve written this week, I’ve realised I must sound like a raging alcoholic with an acute swearing problem. I also had the realisation that I think some of my lecturers are reading this. That said, I’m pretty sure that the head of planning found my comments on how everyone wears too much blue at Sky pretty amusing and he did come in wearing a white top the following day. But uhm, sorry guys. I’ll make it stop. Maybe.
(PS. I’m on a personal mission to make Sky a more colourful place to work. I’ve even gone on a weekend shopping spree to buy as many coloured pairs of trousers as you can on a student budget; I’ll give you a photo by photo update as soon as humanly possible.)