When it comes to personal journals, two emotional memories cross my mind.
The first experience involves me at the age of 7 (yes, I did know how to write already) recording that “My day went very well; I had strawberries and a Kinder Surprise chocolate egg”.
The second incident took place when I was 14, and my Mom read my very personal diary. No comments here, but I suppose you understand why I haven’t had another one ever since.
Today it’s a whole new ball game. This diary is meant to be read, moreover, it is going to be marked. And as it is highly doubtful that my tutors will be interested in anything that is not linked to today’s PR industry, I’ll try to keep my posts narrowed to the topic.
However, I am warning you, an occasional non-relevant personal detail is likely to appear here and there.
The first experience involves me at the age of 7 (yes, I did know how to write already) recording that “My day went very well; I had strawberries and a Kinder Surprise chocolate egg”.
The second incident took place when I was 14, and my Mom read my very personal diary. No comments here, but I suppose you understand why I haven’t had another one ever since.
Today it’s a whole new ball game. This diary is meant to be read, moreover, it is going to be marked. And as it is highly doubtful that my tutors will be interested in anything that is not linked to today’s PR industry, I’ll try to keep my posts narrowed to the topic.
However, I am warning you, an occasional non-relevant personal detail is likely to appear here and there.
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