So it's virtually Christmas time again eh? It never ceases to amaze me how quickly time seems to catch me every year. I'm sure it's the same for everyone though. You've packed the decorations and tree away in the loft, thought about clearing off the first round of inevitable bills for the presents everyone wanted, and before you know it, it's February. Then it's time to save up yet again because the MOT and DVLA come a-knocking in March. April is a pleasant month - it gets reasonably warmer, and the new leaves & flowers of the year start growing. From there, it's not long until warm, delightful summer, with the tennis, the Euro/World football, the seemingly endless cool nights, laughter and memories. Autumn is upon you before you're ready to give summer up, then the clocks go back, and then you've got Halloween and Bonfire Night at the start of November. By which time, Christmas is only around the corner again, and you have to start thinking anew of presents. Where does the time go?
It must be one of the biggest ironies of my life thus far that the more I age, the less control I wield (apparently) over my own destiny. It already feels like I have been shoehorned into this soul-destroying, idea-killing, freedom-stomping machine we all call and know as retail. But this wasn't the plan at all, if I remember rightly. Somewhere trapped inside of me is an articulate, intelligent man with two of the highest academic qualifications crying out for a real, meaningful job. And somewhere between 2006 and now it's all gone pear-shaped. Dead-end retail jobs aren't supposed to be the bedfellows of newly-crowned graduates. I would kill to be at a level most of my friends from high school are currently at. They have better jobs, better salaries, girlfriends, their own property. I couldn't even lay claim to possessing one of these four tenets of happiness.
So what, you ask? Why don't you get off your arse and do something about it? Well, it's not quite as easy as that. Admittedly, I haven't helped myself by picking a pig of an industry to operate in, (music) but it would still have been heartening to find at least some vacancies or suitable jobs. A lot of people over the last three years have roundly assumed that my lack of a decent job is somehow synonymous with a lack of effort or determination on my part. You can get it if you really want. Never give up. Try, try and try again. A veritable collection of frequently spouted cliches gets hurled at me from every angle.
It was never my aim or objective in life to become so cynical about life's little ways and means, but my circumstances have rapidly causing me to re-evaluate what life could and should offer me. It's all very well your family and friends consoling you with thoughts that things will get better... but...um, what if they don't? What if there isn't a happy ending? This isn't a Disney film. This is reality. Bad things can, and do, happen to good people. You and I see it every day, in every city, in every country. On the news, in glorious high definition. On the radio, a crackling androgynous voice recanting the death toll from the latest disaster. Again, a lot of people assume that I must be inherently negative. I would prefer to term myself a realist. Why can't reality be negative in itself? It's not that I'm a manic depressive - far from it. I am still capable of responding to generosity and thoughtfulness from others, but I don't experience this very often.
As The Offspring somewhat cheesily sang on Americana, 'I am a product of my environment'. Nothing more, nothing less.
It must be one of the biggest ironies of my life thus far that the more I age, the less control I wield (apparently) over my own destiny. It already feels like I have been shoehorned into this soul-destroying, idea-killing, freedom-stomping machine we all call and know as retail. But this wasn't the plan at all, if I remember rightly. Somewhere trapped inside of me is an articulate, intelligent man with two of the highest academic qualifications crying out for a real, meaningful job. And somewhere between 2006 and now it's all gone pear-shaped. Dead-end retail jobs aren't supposed to be the bedfellows of newly-crowned graduates. I would kill to be at a level most of my friends from high school are currently at. They have better jobs, better salaries, girlfriends, their own property. I couldn't even lay claim to possessing one of these four tenets of happiness.
So what, you ask? Why don't you get off your arse and do something about it? Well, it's not quite as easy as that. Admittedly, I haven't helped myself by picking a pig of an industry to operate in, (music) but it would still have been heartening to find at least some vacancies or suitable jobs. A lot of people over the last three years have roundly assumed that my lack of a decent job is somehow synonymous with a lack of effort or determination on my part. You can get it if you really want. Never give up. Try, try and try again. A veritable collection of frequently spouted cliches gets hurled at me from every angle.
It was never my aim or objective in life to become so cynical about life's little ways and means, but my circumstances have rapidly causing me to re-evaluate what life could and should offer me. It's all very well your family and friends consoling you with thoughts that things will get better... but...um, what if they don't? What if there isn't a happy ending? This isn't a Disney film. This is reality. Bad things can, and do, happen to good people. You and I see it every day, in every city, in every country. On the news, in glorious high definition. On the radio, a crackling androgynous voice recanting the death toll from the latest disaster. Again, a lot of people assume that I must be inherently negative. I would prefer to term myself a realist. Why can't reality be negative in itself? It's not that I'm a manic depressive - far from it. I am still capable of responding to generosity and thoughtfulness from others, but I don't experience this very often.
As The Offspring somewhat cheesily sang on Americana, 'I am a product of my environment'. Nothing more, nothing less.
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