Thursday, 16 January 2014

I don't want to be an adult

I have been nagging the clock to hurry up for a while so that I can finish uni and get into the juicy bit of life; saving money, moving out, having adventures, but now I'm suddenly freaking out at how close the end is. I woke up the other day and thought to myself in a very childish stamping foot sort of way "I don't want to go to work every day!" "I don't want to lose my summer holidays!" short of being a teacher, of which I heard is a gross exaggeration in terms of how much time they have off, this is an inevitable part of life. I'm just a bit weary of entering the 'real world' Urgh. I very much want to stop being an adult, I do very much want to sit in my blanket fort and do arts and crafts alone while watching my murder mysteries.

I am not at all satisfied with my options of future prospects. I wish I could go back, I really wish I could go back and start over. For a start I'd tell the Keyholder to piss off, then I'd walk down the road, find Mr Jones and have the fuck of my life, then that being done I would apply to university to study horticulture or history or Philosophy instead of English and start a university magazine in my first week, and my blog 2 years early and then I'd volunteer anywhere relevant for some experience. I might even find out when and where the creative writing classes were held and attend them as well as my own lessons just for the insight.  I'd go get that job as a waitress just for the fun of it, and I'd save all my wages. By the end of uni I'd be looking at a better grade, with better job ideas in mind, I'd spend a few years building a good portfolio and then I'd move to the south of France to be a professional gardener, or to Utah, America to be a park ranger. I'd take Jones with me of course, he'd tag along as my employed assistant or whatever because I am the kind of woman with so many things on my mind I need an assistant to think them for me. I'd have finished and published my first book already and be on the way to doing another. Perhaps I'd already been scouted for modelling due to my fabulous body I would have maintained for the last 3 years because I gave up chips and went fitness mad, I'd therefore be asked to star in the lead role of my book turned movie in Hollywood, but I'd decline because I am so busy with my other life pursuits. I would reap the life of luxury I have made myself and......ok I have gone off on a fantasy tangent but you get the idea. But I can't go back, life's not fair. I have to make do...

(Oh, and in this fantasy, I would take elocution lessons so that I might be wanted to co-host on television, washing elephants with water hoses, or talking about monkey culture. )

So I am going to apply for any and every tolerable graduate job that I can find, I will work in some crummy little area of the world, and save my wages and dream about being 25 like the way I used to dream about being 20 when I was 17. Nothing is how you imagine it to be. I will move out of this street, I will work towards bettering myself, I'll make up what I lack in grades with experience and I will work and work until I get my book published. Then one day, when I am fifty and retiring early to open my little shop and spend more time in my cherished garden and doing charity events for the W.I of whichever countryside county I have moved to, well then I will look back and say, "I did ok in the end." Because people like me are like badgers, we fight until we're dead, and people like me always end up doing ok in the end.

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