So, some people don't think I'll be this "focussed" for long. Perhaps I won't, but I was thinking about things. Throughout my life I've somehow been directed along a certain path. I don't know why God would want an archaeologist, but I suppose it takes all sorts.

You see, I suppose I chose all my subjects at school because I enjoyed them and I was good at them, not because I had a specific career in mind. Somehow the subjects led onto an archaeology degree. Well, two of the GSCE's I took (Latin and History) and two of the A-levels I took (History and Classical Civilisation) were archaeology related.

School was hard work, but I came out with good results. You want to know what they were? I could tell you. I'm a little ashamed of my Maths A-level result, which is why I always say, "I got an A in Statistics!", but the Maths I learned does come in useful. So it was probably worth it. (I changed from English Literature to do Maths. Maybe that was a bit daft. *g*) I have 10 GCSE's, 8 A's and 2 B's and 4 A-levels (2 A's a B and a D). Now you know.

Where was I? Ah, the direction thing. Why did I choose archaeology? I suppose I looked for a degree that sounded fun. Something historical, but not history. Something hands on. The sort of job that defines history. Archaeology! After looking at costs of living, distance from home, course structures and general niceness, I decided I wanted to go to Leicester. And lo and behold, there was no problem getting in. They actually wanted the lowest grades out of all of my choices!

And so I headed off. I was amongst the last lot of people to get my tuition fees paid as well as getting a grant to cover some of my living costs. If that hadn't been the case, there's no way I could have afforded to go to university. My parents don't have money to spare, and I don't want to get into a load of debt before I've even started my working life. So that's another strange point for the direction thing. I was actually being paid to study.

I worked pretty hard, did a ceramics module that I found strangely interesting, and came out of it with a upper 2nd degree. Only a few people get firsts, and an upper 2nd's the next best thing, so I was happy with that. I did so well in the ceramics module that the lecturer pulled me aside to tell me how enthusiastic I'd appeared to be in the write-up. I'll probably never forget that. It was surreal, but in a good way.

Ah, and during my time there I met Ali at the Christian Union. We ended up renting a house for the two years we weren't in halls. I can honestly say that she's my bestest friend. And I also met Mark, although he was actually an online acquaintance. He just happened to live in Leicester. I don't think we really met up until the end of the course. I could be wrong about that, mind you. Brain like a sieve and all that. :p

After graduation I stumbled upon slightly harder times. My lecturers had said that jobs in archaeology weren't really available unless you had a masters degree. I applied to a few places, but I didn't get a job. I ended up on the dole, with the job centre people trying to make me do jobs that really weren't career options. In the end I applied for a few Christmas jobs, was rejected a fair few times, and in desperation applied for a couple of nights a week filling shelves in WHSmith.

At the interview the personnel manager asked if I'd like more hours, if they were available. Suddenly my job turned from a couple of nights a week into 5 days a week looking after the toy department. I took it, of course! After Christmas they kept me on, I was given more hours, and I became a fully fledged member of the book department. That year and a half or so were good in so many ways. The work wasn't disagreeable (who doesn't like books?!) and I made some great friends. I'm so glad that I didn't get the other jobs I applied for. Although things had looked bleak, I ended up with a steady income, made friends and saved up a fair bit of money.

My friends at work always said that I shouldn't stay there forever. They said that I needed to move on and take the next step, go and do a masters degree. And before you say anything, they weren't trying to get rid of me! Leaving there was one of the saddest moments of my life. We went out for a meal, we were very emotional - I was even given a helium balloon with a sad puppy on it. I keep in touch, and I feel I need to do well because they believed in me. That sounds odd, but it's true.

This is turning into a sort of epic blog again, isn't it? And it's not even that interesting. Ah well. I don't think many of my online friends know all the ins and outs of my life up to this point. :)

Applying to do the masters was strangely easy. I had to attend an interview, but when I arrived it turned out that it wasn't really an interview at all. It was a "how have things been!?" sort of meeting. Informal, cheery and there was no problem with me doing the course. I landed a place on a masters degree at the third best archaeology department in the country.

And so, here I am. Maybe I read too much into things, but I've always been heading in a direction, even when it seemed that I was drifting aimlessly. The most directionless decision in my life was probably to take the job at WHSmith, but I met one person there (who became a very good friend) who loved talking about archaeology, and a whole bunch of great people who actually believe that I'll be a famous archaeologist some day. Whenever I wonder what on earth I'm doing, I just have to think about them. I can't let them down.

Somehow, I've ended up doing something I love. The next few months are going to be horrible at times, but I have to try my hardest to come out of this with an excellent degree. To have ended up here so easily... I can't throw it away. It would be so wrong to squander the opportunity I've been given. Plus I have a Roman pottery related dissertation to look forward to over the summer. How fun is that doing to be? *g*

Maybe I'll stop being focussed, but if I do stop, remind me of this blog entry.

Or make me watch The Last Crusade again. ;)