This new stuff at work is proving to be fun. If nothing else it is reinforcing my theory that is absolutely possible to be really, really busy and bored out of your head at the same time. If anyone reading this does something for a living that they are truly interested in, and/or enjoys, then you are lucky.
Not having any real interest in what you do for a living is, I guess, a curse brought on by not having any sort of career plan whatsoever at any stage, and just sort of stumbling my way from thing to thing over the years. Beyond wanting to be a pop star, I had no specific ambitions to be honest, and this has resulted in me doing stuff which just best pays the bills over the years.
As the often prophetic George Michael once said many years ago…
“Do you, enjoy what you do? If not just stop, don’t stay there and rot!”
Alas it is not that simple my hirsute Greek friend.
This lack of burning career ambition and direction has also resulted in never really feeling properly qualified as “anything” in particular either. I hate being asked what I do for a living as I have no idea what to reply. A good all-rounder, or jack of all trades master of none are both suitable answers, which leave me with a constant feeling of just being about to be “found out” for the charlatan that I am.
All this woe is me stuff can easily be dismissed of course with a counter argument about earning “good money”, and not having to do anything like proper work, involving manual labour, cold weather and getting my hands dirty, all of which is true. I just wouldn’t mind getting up each morning to do something that I have a remote interest in, beyond hoping the job is still there so that we have somewhere to live, and holidays to go on.
This thinking is why I am in no way concerned about the girls’ life choices. Emily’s choice of A level subjects have almost entirely been driven by what interests her, and not what might take her to some career or other. She is doing Media Studies, Film Studies, Photography and English Literature. What she ends up doing next, I’m not too bothered, but hopefully it will be something that fits with her interests.
Rebecca too, having just selected her GCSE options, has chosen stuff that the fellows at Oxbridge may not deem to be academically “on message”. With Drama, Dance (yes there is a dance GCSE), Art and Music, at least half of her lessons will be things that she enjoys, which will surely help her get through the must haves such as Maths, English and Science etc.
Louise too is thinking of a career change, with a possible return to study at some point in the near future. All I need now is someone to match my current salary in return for me writing pithy, moany blogs and tweets, whilst travelling the US on some sort of eternal travelogue. Surely this isn’t too much to ask??
Until that happens, the charade of interest continues, attending meetings I don’t want to go to, talking about stuff that I’d rather not talk about, in places I don’t want to be. It’s all a bit of a game really, and one I don’t particularly care if I win or lose, as long as the salary hits the bank each month.
So yes, this (if you had not noticed) is the inevitable and annual return to work after holiday blues blog. A few more weeks of drizzle, crap traffic, and working weeks will have me re-conditioned back into the swing of normality again I’m sure. Until that time I reserve the right to be maudlin, gloomy and aggrieved.
Louise feels much the same I know, as she posted this morning her unbound joy of a wet, grey miserable Monday morning on the way to Rochdale to take pictures of stranger’s boobs. Nothing against, Rochdale or the boobs of strangers I’m sure.
I suspect we are not alone in our thinking, as any cursory glance at Facebook or Twitter of a Sunday evening/Monday morning will see a procession of protestations around the inevitable and unavoidable bill slavery that befalls many.
I shall take my half empty glass now and spare you any more of this self-pitying tosh, and hope that by the next update here I have something more jolly to share with you. I never said these would always be pretty….did I?
What did George Micheal know anyway, he also said…Do you love your monkey or do you love me?
I am ambivalent to my monkey George.
Till the next time…..