Pass me the floatie, Mum

There’s a lot to be said for getting thrown in at the deep end. You learn more quickly when your feet can’t touch the bottom, you feel incredibly good when you manage to stay afloat and, to stretch a metaphor to breaking point, you don’t become reliant on floaties. All of these things are good – they are what makes you better at whatever you’re trying to do.

But you know what else there’s a lot to be said for? Telling. Me. What. To. Do. It's not the business thing - I know it's nobody’s job to teach me about how goddamn warrants and future work (though, seriously, if anyone can... call me). But that’s not the problem. The problem is that nobody will tell me what to do. I mean the basics. Like what I’m supposed to be doing. And how. And by when.

Like, um, how do I file a story? And which parts of the paper am I responsible for? And, um, how do I file a story again? All the lovely colleagues in the world and even the new-found enthusiasm I seem to have discovered for all things sharemarkety don't really make up for realising at 7pm that you haven't actually filed that market report after all. Unfortunately.