In the previous weeks, we have read a story named "And of Clay are we Created" by Isabelle Allende. It was about an extra-ordinarily brave reporter. While reading the story I found myself thinking about the life of a reporter: Not organized and full of action. I admired the reporter's life for a second. Then I realized: I can't even get up at 8:30 to go to a lesson at 8:40. There is NO way I'm getting out of bed to go to a disaster zone. I don't have the courage, nor the enthusiasm. Even though a reporter's life may seem admirable, it's definitely not for me. Moreover, that reporter spent DAYS trying to save a girl's life...
I'm happy watching the news in my warm house, sitting on a comfortable sofa and drinking my coffee. Going out there is not for me.
We're lucky then that there are many different kinds of people... right? otherwise we would all be expecting to get the news without leaving our comfort zones...
YanıtlaSilbut it's a good thing you did think about whether or not you could / would want to do the job of a reporter or not...