I didn’t go to Brownie’s or Guides. I was a bit of a sceptical little child and was convinced that it was some kind of cult and, honestly, I was scared that I would leave with a tattoo and an obligation to pay a cult leader forever. But I do believe that their motto was (or maybe it was one of those similar cults) ‘Always be Prepared’. So that is what this blog is about – being prepared.
The challenge when cooking for your parents is balancing sophistication with that little bit of helplessness that your parents expect from you. Obviously, the preferable situation is for them to cook – after all they love feeding you. The second choice is that they take you out to dinner and pay, because they have secure jobs and a mortgage they’ve finished paying off, and you are likely to never have those things because they voted for Brexit. Nevertheless, every now and then, you may find yourself in the situation where you have invited them round and misguidedly offered to cook them a meal.
If you want to be an adult then you are going to need to accept sooner or later that adults don’t get to have hopes and dreams, they get cars and mortgages, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is apparently better.
I toyed with the idea of completely losing myself to cliche and calling this ‘How to Lose a Job in 10 Days” but I’m fairly confident that I can help you lose your job in much less than that.
In my 25 years of being alive I have held 9 jobs in total. In the ye olde olden days you had one job and that was it, you were strapped in for life. If I lived back then, my job probably would have been being dead. I have very few skills. I doubt I would have made it out of childbirth alive, and if I did, then I would certainly be one of those TB ridden, pale ghosts coughing up blood in the corner.
Once you have mastered your CV and filled it with unpaid work that has broken your soul, and you have spent three months applying for 1000 jobs, you may actually land yourself an interview.
Interviews are the worst of all human inventions. You spend hours beforehand preparing lies about how the job as an Associate to the Executive Manager of Marketeering and Conservation efforts for a funeral home is the role of your dreams, and how you would be honoured to take up the mantle. You will also have to wear your most uncomfortable clothes and shoes, because apparently experiencing physical pain from clothing demonstrates your willingness and eagerness to get the job.
So minimum wage and living with your parents is getting old.
You’ve abandoned the idea that your job folding clothes and pretending to be nice to customers is just until your band takes off. No longer do you believe that stacking tins of dog food is just a way of funding you becoming a world famous artist. And coming home covered in grease and smelling of cod after 8 hours working in a fish and chip shop isn’t really furthering your acting career.
It’s time to get real. It’s time to earn enough to save for a mortgage and mundane package holidays. It’s time to get one of those jobs that you will tell people at your school reunion “It’s not thrilling but it pays the bills”.
I came up with this blog whilst sitting around in my pants playing candy crush instead of writing or doing anything productive. It felt great, and the nap I took after felt even better, but there was a degree of guilt that came with not keeping to my strict ‘maybe post on Tuesday or Wednesday or perhaps Thursday’ schedule.
That’s not the guilt we will talk about today though. Mainly cos that story is as boring as hell, but also because there are much bigger things that I feel guilty about.