Lost, crushed, cold and confused, with no guiding light…

I’ve given up on my original plan to waffle about ‘Belgian’ (bit of a private joke there, though not actually very funny once you’re in on it so don’t worry).

I’m instead moved to vent an inkspill of a ramble about the job. The way I’m feeling at the moment it’ll probably be neither particularly subtle nor fluent. It probably will be, however, blessed blessed relief, quite unusually succinct!

In short:-

> I’m fucked off with being shunted about from pillar to post like a piece of underrated, undervalued, put your dirty shoes all over the upholstery, cheap and somewhat sharp and uncomfortable piece of furniture.

> I’m particularly peeved with the above occurring without being consulted, involved or in any way considered.

> I’m fed up of being treated like an idiot, a child and a mind-reader in equal measure, by varying parties, often all at the same time.

> I’m at a loss as to why, despite all of the above and the wage and being at the bottom of the pyramid with the other plebs, I still go out of my way to help and succeed and consider it a personal failing on the rare occasion I can’t achieve something.

> And, further, why I put in more hours than I should, and care more than anyone in my position should.

> I can’t comprehend why in one breath I’m being told that I MUST use up all my Leave, and MUST book it soon and MAKE SURE I don’t lose out… then in the next I’m being made to feel guilty for taking a day off.

> Likewise, I resent being given the cold shoulder for popping out for 20 minutes at lunchtime, whilst it’s perfectly acceptable to sod off for 3 hours at 2 minutes notice for others.

> I feel guilty and cruel for taking out my increasing impatience on those who really don’t deserve it and really do need to better utilise what used to be a very good practice of “think before you speak you moron”.

> I’m shocked, and a little worried, that in the place of the usual clamping of the jaw and clenching of the fists, I’m reacting to these grievances with a lump in the throat and a stinging in the eyes.

> I’m also quite shocked to find that, not knowing where I’ll be sitting tomorrow and not knowing what work I’ll be doing, I’m actually struggling to decide where I’d rather be.

> I realise running away is never the best option.

> I hate overanalysing things.

> I hate hypocrites, sycophants and liars more than the above.

> Despite my very public aversion to them, I really quite want a hug

To conclude, some words of wisdom:

“The grass is always greener on The Other Side”

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away” – Lennon/McCartney

“Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right…” – Rafferty and/or Egan

“The time has come to shoot your leaders down” – Matt Bellamy

“I was looking for a job, and then I found a job, and Heaven knows I’m miserable now” – Steven Morrissey

And last, but certainly not least, and because what choice do we really have?: “Keep calm and carry on”.

Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey, won’t you come home?

I love the West Wing.  I love it like I love waking up and realising I don’t have to get up for three hours, like I love a hot shower at the end of a long day, like I love… every other thing I love in my pathetic and limited life!  I admire the writing more than I admire anything of my own creation [and I admire my own work more often than I dare admit - today's ramble an obvious exception!] and a lot of things of others’ creation, and I’ve learnt more from it this year than I’ve learnt from reading newspapers or law textbooks.   This declaration of love is nothing new and won’t come as a surprise to anyone.  I wax lyrical about it more than I do about my longer televisual loves of Doctor Who or Life on Mars and I wish I could be half as clever as its creators or its characters.  I would quite happily marry Josh Lyman, Will Bailey or Toby Ziegler and realise quite how tragic that sounds.   I watched 3 seasons in less than 2 months on my return from China and given the time I would spend a week watching the whole 7 seasons again [which, incidentally, would mean approximately 3 hours sleep a night] .  In short, I’m quite fond of it.  You will probably know this, although perhaps not the extent of it!

HOWEVER, [it had to come sooner or later!] it has let me down a few times.  Admittedly, I can count the times on one hand but, although off the top of my head I can’t remember any other instances whereby my love has wavered, the scars remain.   One of the times is fresh though, because it only just occurred.  [Half an hour ago, as it's on in the background right now "helping" me get this practice coursework done].  I noticed… AN ERROR!  The jpeg below encapsulates my pain. 

Again, knowing me as you undoubtedly do, I’m sure you will understand the issue at hand.  I am shocked and disappointed and actually a little saddened.  When I’ve done some more work I intend to investigate and see if there is any trace of remorse from the writers, or any explanation.  Perhaps, after all, we should give the benefit of the doubt, and mark this down as an intentional error.  Maybe they’re not just being stereotypical Americans… Maybe.  I hope.  My faith is strong!

Don’t kid yourself, and don’t fool yourself

Something else from the archives I stumbled across today.  Genuinely forgot writing this one, but it fills the lacuna between the four month ramble and the nine month ramble quite neatly…

 

A little under two months ago, I sat here and typed about perhaps the most revolutionary four months of my adult life. Interesting turn of phrase there, seeing as I rarely view myself as an adult and I certainly don’t know what my “adult life” equates to! I suppose it doesn’t matter all that much, to me or anyone else: I’m not being graded here for fluidity, thank the Lord. Anyway, I’m digressing – just by way of a change. What I was trying to reference is the passing of six months with the olde True Blue Council (only True Blue for the past month, mind).

It would be fair to say that the past two months have perhaps been greater still in the revolutionary stakes than the preceding four. I find myself in the position now where I have two forms to fill in that will effectively seal my fate for the near future. On the one hand, I have an offer on a two year law conversion course which, upon sending them a cheque for £200 and a ‘certified copy’ of my degree certificate, is signed, sealed and delivered, and commences in October. On the other hand is a commitment that could be for substantially more than two years or, equally, somewhat less time: that of a ‘permanent’ job. Both of these are big steps for me, and both of these I’m dubious about. In terms of the job I know that I’m selling myself short, taking the easy option and potentially setting myself up for a fall.  With regards to the course, I’m well aware that I’m leaping into something fairly blindly and, although I’ve done a LOT of thinking about it for the past 3-4 months, I’m not entirely sure it’s the route I want to take my life in.  It’s more a case of it being:-

a)    a career
b)    a rather interesting career
c)     an area I’ve already dipped a toe into
d)    a respectable career with potentially substantial rewards; monetary and personal
e)    a stopgap/back-up measure to the ongoing writing dream
f)     the flavour of the month (or half-year, as the case may be)

What worries me is not that I might fail at this law game but more that I might change my mind about it. I’ve had many mental forays into careers in the past, at one point I even seriously considered teaching, but for the past few years, whilst at uni and since leaving, I’ve been almost entirely clueless. The same fantastic ideas remained, of writing novels or working in TV or drafting eloquent and intellectual pieces for The Guardian, but in terms of real solid career plans and progression I’ve always been lacking.  I have considered law before, even while still at sixth form I contemplated it as a degree choice, but was most definitely not ready to commit to it.  I feel that my education in the area has advanced somewhat since, however, and do fully acknowledge that the “skills” (and neuroses) I possess could well set me in good stead for a successful career in the legal profession.  Pah, I feel like I’m regurgitating my GDL personal statement now.  That was a far superior document though, in the end: much less sarcastic and much more thoroughly thought through. Try saying that out loud three times fast!

 

And unfinished it remains, it would seem, based on the lack of finality there.

ruining (sic.) the world

That is all.

I hate that word, and can only apologise, but the song makes some good points.  You’ll see.

How can I show you, I’m glad I got to know you?

Going to be a bit retrospective again here… Honestly, this Jetski gal, if she’s not being a rambler she’s being a… retrospector. [Copyright pending on that made up word!] I’ve literally just noticed, having glanced back at blog entries, it’s nine months today since I started my job.  Anyone who knows me at all will know that a thought like that can’t be passed by without some sort of internal monologue.  And why not turn it into an external monologue?! [Answers on a postcard please children.]

Not surprisingly, life is quite a bit different to nine months ago and even at my most perverse I can’t say it’s worse!  A year ago I was quite happily bumbling along doing very little; the odd few hours or day helping out at school, lots of sleep and watching TV, even more moping about at all hours of night and listening to music, a little bit of a social life but very little money, and even the occasional job application or jobsite perusal.   A little over 9 months ago I booked a flight to China, for a holiday, predominantly to see Bec.  [And while we're on the subject, seeing as this began life as a travel blog, I never put any photos from the trip on here, so here's a slideshow affair!]  Anyway, digression aside, going to China meant paying for China, which meant cutting the faffing and actually getting a job. 

One fateful day, 9 months and 3 days ago to be precise , I was doing the usual half-hearted jobhunting around town, bumped into a friend and thought “screw it, I’ll wander with him instead”, and did so, until coming upon and debating entering and finally venturing into a recruitment agency. The rest, as they say, is history. It’s very modern history, yet it doesn’t feel it, it feels like a lifetime ago, cliched though it is. If we’re going to go down that line though, I guess in effect that was a different life – recent graduate, unemployment, etc etc…

Life changed at any rate, from that Monday forth.  A temping job that was meant to line the holiday coffers somehow  turned into a post-holiday temp job [still shocks me I was wanted back, truth be told] and ultimately, almost 7 months after starting, became a “permanent” one – and I use that term loosely…  and here I am, carrying on. 

When I think of the past year, as with any period of life, I think of the people who have affected it: shaped it, even.

My short career has thus far been punctuated with several new-found friendships and several goodbyes to add to the endless succession. [Thanks Moz.]  In my current mournful mood, it is to those that I turn now.  Typically enough, 3 of the people I befriended the most over the 9 months have moved on.  Although other friendships have developed in their stead, the allies of mine are dwindling.  Bizarrely the most recent departure [still very recent so I can hardly *miss* him yet] has rocked me the most.  I’ve never been one for conventional friendships but this is one that ranks up there with the most unintended, most unexpected. It took a while to get going but I found a firm ally and, I would certainly like to think, one was found in me.  It was my erstwhile companion himself who pointed out, more than once, that I was probably making all the wrong acquaintances and going in with the entirely wrong attitude.  Yet if I hadn’t adopted the cynical, upstartesque attitude we’d not have got on half as well [if at all] and arguably without the sage words of his, and others, I wouldn’t have lasted half as long in the job.  Conversely, the sage advice of more recent weeks leaned towards not bearing it out half as long as he…… So many halves, so little sense. 
A lot of thought has been given to these matters over the past 2 weeks following a couple of exchanges and, combined with certain other issues and emotions arising from work life, I’ve been on a grand evaluative expedition.  Can’t/shan’t/won’t elaborate here but suffice to say the old bean gave me food for thought and I’m flattered and humbled and touched beyond belief by the apparent regard and concern for me.  I was trying to find a way to articulate it to a friend the other day quite how and why I was so grateful and sentimental about it but it fell flat on its face.  It’s very hard to express.

I’ve lost whatever point it was I wanted to make.  Missing my ‘friend’ perhaps. It’s been a very up-down seesawing kind of month of work with all sorts of issues, after the first 3 weeks of September having been very encouraging. ‘Job Satisfaction’ was “discussed” today in a meeting and it was flagged up quite how much it helps every now and then to get a little bit of recognition and appreciation. Despite chewing my lip red raw and grinding my teeth through most of the meeting, that bit did resonate with me.  I know it’s something I reflected on here not too long ago but, to reiterate, a kind word or an acknowledgment of some extraordinary effort is, ultimately, what gets me through.  Whether it’s a playful, slightly sarcastic, “you brighten our day Lauren!” or a slightly cringeworthy “you’re an asset to the team!”, it genuinely steels the soul of an insecure wreck!  It’s part of what’s defined the past 9 months that I have established this unprecedented persona which enables me to flatter with one hand and sting with the other; to come across as cocky and over-competent whilst (hopefully) maintaining friendly approachableness.  Sometimes it feels as though I’ve struck upon a perfect balance of subservience and pretentiousness and when it’s going well I can sing and dance and joke and play with the best of them.  The problem lies with the times whereupon instead I tut and mope and stomp and scowl better than the rest! It begs the question, is there such a thing as a happy medium??  [I would wager the happy medium is when I'm left alone (OK by myself, remember?) and am not wound up in either manner, but unfortunately those particular instances are rare, and all too short-lived.]  But then, who wants to be average anyway?!  I’ve always been one to swing between the extremes [university academics aside, where it was always "just good enough"]

I’m going to give up rambling again now.  For a change [ ] I feel I’ve made no real points.  Truth is I daren’t be too explicit or too bitchy, coward that I am.  Still not entirely got to grips with the idea of writing stuff that people can see.  No idea why I bother, with that in mind.  Creating some kind of record that will last beyond the job, beyond my predilection to write about things and perhaps beyond my inevitable internment in the loony bin…

I shall finish with a quotation from T.S. Eliot which is broadly relevant to whatever points I was trying to make, and facetiously relevant to my current standing:

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; 
Am an attendant lord, one that will do 
To swell a progress, start a scene or two, 
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, 
Deferential, glad to be of use,        
Politic, cautious, and meticulous; 
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; 
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous— 
Almost, at times, the Fool. 
 
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled.

[Still working on the rolled trousers but it's only a matter of time!]

Adieu.

God help me some days…

Bla bla bla background background context context chatter chatter flirt flirt ENTER LEO!

The point to the video is the final line: the typical dry Leo, the perfect delivery from the late, great John Spencer (R.I.P.) and most of all the actual words. Lately, more and more by the day, I can completely relate to the sentiment: indeed I think I’ve said it a fair few times.

Today, in case it’s not obvious, was one of those days. I wish I could compare my workplace to the west wing of the White House, particularly the fictional one as featured above, but in terms of work and personnel it’s obviously very far off! However, as I guess is typical of any working environment or any environment at all, there are similiarities, there are the same silly issues and the fucking bureaucracy and the bitching and the gossip… and most of all there’s the outward despair at times at the behaviour of colleagues. Herein I sympathise with Leo in the clip.

I want to rant.  I really really want to rant and rave at someone and for somebody to empathise and understand, but I can’t pick a target. Rather, I can’t bring myself to force that kind of tirade on anyone in particular. Henceforth I’m venting a little bit of spleen here and subliminally blatantly advertising the update so that someone might read it and… empathise  

“This might surprise you, but, I find I’m ok by myself” – something else often quoted (although not for the past 3 weeks or so…).  I’m bitter and I’m twisted and I’m cynical and pessimistic and hateful but, seriously, leave me the hell alone.  It’s all fine and dandy.  Nobody needs ‘managing’ or instructing and it’s really really not worth the stress!

KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON!

I know it’s dangerous territory to venture on to considering my position (“at the bottom of the food chain” as I put it earlier) but jeeeeez.  It’s so very frustrating to see the flaws and know better and know the answers and notice the mistakes and not be able to pipe up and sort it out.   Discussed this earlier with a colleague of mine, in sketchy terms, to say the least, who, not surprisingly, could relate and understand my position… but the outcome of it wasn’t entirely positive!  He advised (and it’s advice I didn’t really need but do perhaps need to remember more often) that it was all fine and good to think these things, but to be very careful about voicing them.  As I said, that’s nothing new to me and I told him as such, but it’s somewhat reassuring to have another voice backing it up.  Had some choice words on trust too.  Within that environment, as he pointed out, it’s vital to be wary of who you’re talking to and, as I pointed out, who they’re talking to.   All a little bit MI5/X-Files, but the basic upshot is “trust noone”, certainly nobody but yourself.  It did make me think though, and there are only one or two people there whom I trust unequivocally…  and to be honest I have very little foundation even for that, beyond instinct… but that’s not something to explore so publicly [although, as already established, nobody reads this!]

When chatting to somebody else today, I think I was far too open about my thoughts and feelings and my irritation.  And although I know it was safe, in that particular instance, the words of the former fella made me a little cautious after the event.  I know I can’t make a difference as yet, if ever, and, although I bit my lip more times today than I care to remember, I think I need to hold back a bit more and a bit better.  Something from a few months ago brought it home that you never know when Big Brother is watching - or, more importantly, listening – and I have to behave.  I have yet another new ally in despair though, which helps, and I’ve done a stellar job already of spreading the bitterness……

Still, always look on the bright side of life!  Today was a shitter, for reasons I daren’t go into just in case, but tomorrow is another day, and although I’m not optimistic about it, it’s not a write-off yet.  PMA, as Nick used to tell me…  Perhaps cynicism, sarcasm, bitterness and pessimism isn’t such a winning combination after all!  I’ve mellowed a helluva lot in the past 5 hours.  When on the way home earlier, thinking over what I’d liked to have been moaning about, this rant was going to be very vehement and volatile (ain’t alliteration amazing?) but now tiredness and enhanced perspective have overtaken it and made this very tame.  Which is probably for the best, seeing as this can be found by googling my surname (as pointed out to me by an amused and bemused sister recently, but that’s a topic for a different discussion) and seen by the wrong eyes it could be very damaging.  Meh. 

Final thing, and something I really could’ve done with today…. yesterday I got a little message that brightened my day, from a very unlikely source, and… well, it brightened my day!  A star in an otherwise cloudy sky, to borrow a phrase  ;)  It made me realise,  a little kindness goes a long way.  And genuine, sincere appreciation and gratitude, rare as it is, sometimes does make it worthwhile. 

How’s that for looking on the bright side?

The Graduate

Perusing the “Writing” folder on my laptop, I stumbled across this, written almost a year ago now.  Not particularly relevant anymore, a lot of things have changed in the past 11 months, but it’s interesting to read the thoughts of the time.  ‘Tis for me at least, and seeing as the chances of many other people reading this are fairly slim it’s probably safe to have it here as back-up and a potential point of interest.  (More likely I’ll direct certain individuals here and request feedback in which case, give feedback!!)

Anyway, the thoughts of Miss Lauren J. Adamiecki, 7th October, 2008, on being an undesirable History gradaute and all-round no-hoper!: -

“I am a graduate.  I attended a well-revered university for three years as an undergraduate in History (I won’t put its name to this as I wouldn’t wish to bring disgrace to its door) and gained an upper second class degree.

Supposedly thirty years ago or so those words meant something; it meant being desirable to employers, being respected in the workplace, perhaps even being a bit of ponce or an intellectual, but at least that’s an identity.  I feel less like an upper-second class citizen (how about that, creating a class system based on levels of graduates…) than a common prole.  I should be proud of my achievements.  Not everyone gets straight A-grades, or gets in to university, and even less people graduate at all, never mind doing it and narrowly missing a first.

So why isn’t it enough to get a job?  Why aren’t there suitors queuing up to get my name on their books?  Surely I’m a success, on some level?  True enough, I was never the most conscientious worker, despite somehow convincing all and sundry that I was throughout my education.  Never did I take it upon myself to really outdo myself, to challenge my preconceptions or step too far from my comfort zone.  This has perhaps held me back to some extent, a contentedness to ‘do the little things well’ – a product of a Catholic upbringing? – and to rely on my wit and intelligence to carry me through – a result of laziness, primarily.  Maybe I should have sacrificed my social life and become a bookworm or, rather than watching football and writing silly stories, I could have joined societies and written for the paper.

Maybe, perhaps, what if.  There’s no point to all that now.  Listing and dwelling on all my regrets is not going to help me get a job, to decide on a route through life.  People tell me I have to focus on my qualities; I have to learn to portray myself with confidence and esteem.  Unfortunately I’m mostly confident about my failures thus far.  Granted I have the capacity to be an egotistical little upstart, believing I deserve better than perhaps I truly do… but largely I’m just a pessimistic donkey.”

A necessary evil?

Courtesy of fellow temp Nick, from a few months ago, current.com brings you the following…

http://current.com/items/89804943_i-hate-temping.htm

Obviously not a personal hatred, but an amusing video nonetheless.

Irritated that wordpress and current don’t seem to want to combine to allow its embedding, but alas…

A Change is Gonna Come

I just realised I’m becoming a creature of habit and routine. 

Following a shower, at approximately the same time as yesterday’s, I sat on the bed in my towel, turned on the laptop, set an episode of The West Wing rolling and realised.  I did exactly the same yesterday.  In fact I’ve done the same little sequence many an evening previously.  I imagine I will continue to do so for some time to come too.  Only problem with that being that The West Wing is drawing to a close; I’m on episode 7 of series 6.  There’s 7 series in total and 22 episodes in each.  You do the sums, there’s not long to go.  Following an episode of said programme, possibly two if I’m feeling awake enough or particularly obsessive, I’ll do a bit of reading – either online or from a book, perhaps spend a further half hour or so online ‘conversing’ and ultimately wind up in bed some time between 11.30 and midnight.  Then it’s sleep time, then it’s reluctantly waking up at 6.15, then 6.30, then 6.45, then getting up at 7.  And then the daytime routine kicks in.  That’s bizarrely where most variety comes in, within the workplace, as it’s impossible to stick to a set routine in the ebb and flow of the place.  Even if I tried it I don’t think I’d succeed.  Anyway, 10 hours after leaving – give or take – I return home and then a rather usual, rather tedious, little pre-shower routine starts.  It’s almost worrying.

By the time I run out of episodes of The West Wing a lot of things may well have changed.  Coincidentally, the episode I just watched is called “A Change is Gonna Come”.  Or is that a coincidence?  Am I perhaps writing about this because subliminally that episode title has planted the idea of change in my mind?  Post hoc ergo propter hoc?  Or perhaps change is just in the air, and all these possibilities and questions are circling my brain and keeping me awake at night and keeping me from focusing fully on even the wonderful West Wing!  As I was saying, when The West Wing runs dry, I’ll have made steps – either forwards or backwards – and things will be on the way to changing.  I hope it’ll be for the better, but as of yet I don’t have a clue what direction I’ll be lurching towards.  I need something, someone perhaps(?), to force me into action, to stop all this thinking and questioning and actually conclude something for once.  I want to throw myself in at the deep end, but I’m bloody scared.  I want to be grown up, but I don’t feel ready for it.  Somebody give me a push, please?  Or, as a preferable option, maybe a lift?

Standing on the edge of tomorrow

Tomorrow – Tuesday, 19th May, 2009 – it will be the four-month anniversary of my starting work with the Council.  Granted within that time I’ve taken two and a half weeks off for a sojourn to the Far East so it’s not truly four months’ work, but datewise we’re there.  In many ways it feels much longer than that and yet the time has flown.  When accepting the position from Express I don’t think I expected I’d still be there four months later.  I certainly didn’t expect that I’d be wanting to stay there longer still…

Yet here I am, pretty much decided that I will presently apply for a permanent position, and finding it hard to imagine what might happen next if (or when) I don’t get said post.  I’m remarkably settled, perhaps dangerously so, and honestly daren’t allow myself to think about rejection and unemployment!  That’s mostly by the bye for now however; it’s out of my hands at the moment and indeed may continue to be until the last.  What has been occupying my mind this evening, since realising the date, is the past, not the future.  It’s been a fascinating journey already and I strongly believe I have grown up and changed a lot since January.  Being part of a proper work environment (albeit that quite how true to your regular work environment it is has been a topic of contention among certain colleagues for some time) helps one learn a lot about the world.  More specifically, it enables a greater understanding of how people work – not how they employ themselves, how they function!  I’ve found watching and analysing people infinitely fascinating for years, I suppose it could be attributable in some way to my constant, yet subconscious, lookout for good writing material and traits for characters.  The change from kids and teachers and students and lecturers to genuine professionals, proper grown-up, rounded individuals has, conversely, been less pronounced than one might imagine.  Certainly you expect social interaction and the like to have advanced somewhat from the playground to the workplace, but… on some basic level people are all the same!  It’s amazing to suss out the alliances, find the tensions, to note the marked difference in interaction from one person to the next.  It’s almost tempting to study psychology and sociology to try to better understand what motivates these things!

Anyway, I think that was quite a digression from what I’d been contemplating earlier.  What’s been on my mind this evening is more a question of my… development, for want of a better word.  A new letter from an old friend came today, commenting on the way in which we had both changed in the period between graduating in July and reuniting in China in April.  Whilst not much more than a passing remark, it did cause me to wonder: have I changed?  I’m pretty sure my outlook has been altered to some extent.  I spent most of university, and prior to that, as the perennial pessimist; likewise I was constantly failing to reach potential or work hard or give a toss!  Somehow the work has changed that.  Partly.  I’m still a pessimist at heart, or, as I choose to tell myself, a realist!  Equally I know I’m not currently reaching the potential that is balled up in me somewhere, but I have developed a genuine work ethic and I most definitely give a toss.  I have no idea why I find myself wanting to work, wanting to do things to the best of my ability and be constantly occupied in a gainful manner.  I don’t know what it is that has made me grow attached to the place and the work, and I don’t see why I should care whether they want to employ me or not.  I definitely don’t know if I’m doing the right thing by pursuing this course of action.  But then, how do people usually decide these things?  Why not find occupation via a spur-of-the-moment ascent into an agency; why not settle at the first place that’ll have you; why not follow the tide, get stuck in and ask questions later??  I can only imagine that’s how things work for many people.  Unless set on a specific job or career path, why not make the decision based on happenstance?  They may not be the best examples to follow, but I know that both of my parents fell upon their professions, such as they are.  Neither had designs on working in their respective sectors, neither really had grand schemes for which career ladders to erect and ascend.  They might argue that they wish they had: pursued some half-hearted dream or sought to be… something.  In a way I believe it was easier thirty years ago.  It wasn’t about getting a career, being “a” something; a doctor, a teacher, a lawyer, a corporate whore or an audit monkey.  You just got a job, because you had to.  I know that I’ve been spoilt in that respect.  It was never pressed upon me that a job was the be-all and end-all, I was never left wanting or needing my own income as a teenager and at the same time it was never a case of ‘pick a path at fourteen and ruthlessly pursue it by whatever means necessary’.  Sometimes I wish that had been the case, that I’d had to make a decision early on and that I’d had something specific to work towards.  Sometimes it feels that it would have been easier if I’d decided at school to be… an architect, for example, and had single-mindedly ploughed towards that end, rather than drifting and being unsure and ‘doing what I enjoy’. 

Would I be better off now?  Conceivably.  Would I be happier?  Who can tell.  Is it the ‘right’ way?  Is it proper to decide at three to be an actor and never consider the other options?  Is it appropriate even to ‘put all your eggs in one basket’ and invest years and thousands of pounds towards being a doctor, without any guarantee of success? 

Perhaps being a drifter and a dreamer and an indecisive, insecure, introspective idealist is the preferable option.  Maybe taking time, ‘wasting’ three years on a History degree and finally taking a cautious, semi-committed leap into a vocation at 22 off your own initiative and your own income actually is more sensible.  Effectively we’ll never know.  No one person can take both approaches and see both through to the end.  We can only hope that the route we take, whether by circumstance or design, reaches a profitable and positive destination.  Personally I’m glad there’s a long way to go before that final destination is even on the horizon, but where I’m standing now, looking pensively and carefully down the road, I’m sufficiently content to walk on at my own pondering pace.  I can do no more than thank all involved for helping me reach that status, and can only hope I’m on the right track.

 

Hmmmmmmmmmm…………..