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I'm 21, I work full time and my career dreams have been put on hold so I can support myself. A while ago I got a debit card, and while waiting in the queue at the Nationwide, I realised I was old. Queuing in banks was something my parents did and dragged me along for the ride...
On Thursday I took the day off work to go to the hospital. Not to relax, not to get away from work and get drunk with my friends - so I could go to the hospital at 11am (only time I could get) then go home. I couldn't accept that so I texted my mate The Fos and he came to town to meet me when I was finished there (though I had to go back the next day for a blood test)
After seeing The Island with said mate and having a quick beer I went home, then went to look at a house with my mate (The Wal) my dad, Wal's brother and his wife and The Fos. The idea of owning a house with my mate (with a girl you're more likely to split up and that causes hassle) has me more than a little bit excited. But all this talk of mortgages, bills, re-decorating, and costs etc. has me scared in a "I'm only 21, I wish I was only 17 again" sort of way.
As if trying to keep a personal life, a social life and a love life together wasn't bad enough.
That's not to mention the holiday coming up in October, and the drugs I'm being put on for my skin that has a list of side effects that manages to fill two columns of small text on an A4 sheet. Depression and/or suicide, diabetes, hair loss, bone deformity, slight loss of sight/hearing, back pain, kidney and liver infections; that's just off the top of my head (OK, I had a sly peek at the piece of paper, but that's only about a quarter of what I can get from it, it's the stuff that made the papers, namely The Daily Mail, because some kid killed himself while on it) Just waiting for the results of the blood test to see if I can go on them (and that's AFTER they made me pay for them)
Is this it? Am I destined to work for HMRC (that's the new name for the Inland Revenue) for the rest of my life, paying off a mortgage and never getting to pursue my film making dreams? If I'd worked harder at school and actually bothered showing up to lessons then I could've gone to uni like my brother and sister, who are both pulling in at least 25 grand a year now while I'm on half that. I'm good at my job, but being on temporary contracts means the chances of promotion are laughable - it just doesn't happen. And rather then make me permanent, they'll just wait for my contract to expire (so they can say they're cutting jobs) then bring in someone to replace me the next month. Work's great because I've met loads of new people, got loads of girls' numbers (mostly as friends but two with the potential for more) and gained some skills but when it's over I'm going to brick myself; the prospect of going off to a new place, learning totally new work and having to make new friends again scares me. I've been moved around loads and always made new friends, but it's always been similar work.
I'm getting old and life's responsibilities are finally catching up with me. Soon I'll have to learn how to iron...
OK, rant over, just had some stuff to whine about and my mates are probably sick of hearing about it.
On Thursday I took the day off work to go to the hospital. Not to relax, not to get away from work and get drunk with my friends - so I could go to the hospital at 11am (only time I could get) then go home. I couldn't accept that so I texted my mate The Fos and he came to town to meet me when I was finished there (though I had to go back the next day for a blood test)
After seeing The Island with said mate and having a quick beer I went home, then went to look at a house with my mate (The Wal) my dad, Wal's brother and his wife and The Fos. The idea of owning a house with my mate (with a girl you're more likely to split up and that causes hassle) has me more than a little bit excited. But all this talk of mortgages, bills, re-decorating, and costs etc. has me scared in a "I'm only 21, I wish I was only 17 again" sort of way.
As if trying to keep a personal life, a social life and a love life together wasn't bad enough.
That's not to mention the holiday coming up in October, and the drugs I'm being put on for my skin that has a list of side effects that manages to fill two columns of small text on an A4 sheet. Depression and/or suicide, diabetes, hair loss, bone deformity, slight loss of sight/hearing, back pain, kidney and liver infections; that's just off the top of my head (OK, I had a sly peek at the piece of paper, but that's only about a quarter of what I can get from it, it's the stuff that made the papers, namely The Daily Mail, because some kid killed himself while on it) Just waiting for the results of the blood test to see if I can go on them (and that's AFTER they made me pay for them)
Is this it? Am I destined to work for HMRC (that's the new name for the Inland Revenue) for the rest of my life, paying off a mortgage and never getting to pursue my film making dreams? If I'd worked harder at school and actually bothered showing up to lessons then I could've gone to uni like my brother and sister, who are both pulling in at least 25 grand a year now while I'm on half that. I'm good at my job, but being on temporary contracts means the chances of promotion are laughable - it just doesn't happen. And rather then make me permanent, they'll just wait for my contract to expire (so they can say they're cutting jobs) then bring in someone to replace me the next month. Work's great because I've met loads of new people, got loads of girls' numbers (mostly as friends but two with the potential for more) and gained some skills but when it's over I'm going to brick myself; the prospect of going off to a new place, learning totally new work and having to make new friends again scares me. I've been moved around loads and always made new friends, but it's always been similar work.
I'm getting old and life's responsibilities are finally catching up with me. Soon I'll have to learn how to iron...
OK, rant over, just had some stuff to whine about and my mates are probably sick of hearing about it.
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"Things like re-decorating shouldn't concern you unless your house currently looks gay or has pictures of Barney everywhere."
The one we looked at on Thursday was occupied by a couple in their 50s, which meant old people carpets and furniture... and one of the bedrooms had purple wallpaper. We're probably not getting that one but if we did, I just couldn't live there the way it looks now.
The other house had just been done up, after the previous occupant died in hospital... It was a great house, and cheap with lots of space, but it was the only privately owned house in the street, which means the chances of some "entertaining" neighbours coming and going constantly was quite high.
And Goaty, I wasn't so much complaining about my age, more like "I'm doing stuff old only people should do, I'm only 21"
21 is still young to me, obviously, but it is a tad worrying talking to people at work who don't know who Mr T is... I remember when being born in 1984 meant you were young, really young, as in 6 years old. Now it means if you're still at college you're probably thick.
My friends start turning 22 after October... at least I'm not them.
The one we looked at on Thursday was occupied by a couple in their 50s, which meant old people carpets and furniture... and one of the bedrooms had purple wallpaper. We're probably not getting that one but if we did, I just couldn't live there the way it looks now.
The other house had just been done up, after the previous occupant died in hospital... It was a great house, and cheap with lots of space, but it was the only privately owned house in the street, which means the chances of some "entertaining" neighbours coming and going constantly was quite high.
And Goaty, I wasn't so much complaining about my age, more like "I'm doing stuff old only people should do, I'm only 21"
21 is still young to me, obviously, but it is a tad worrying talking to people at work who don't know who Mr T is... I remember when being born in 1984 meant you were young, really young, as in 6 years old. Now it means if you're still at college you're probably thick.
My friends start turning 22 after October... at least I'm not them.
On another note, houses...
Yeah, I have a friend looking for one too. Seems ery wierd. I need to find a career for when I finish uni, then get my ass on the property ladder too. Although I'm holding out for a crash in the next couple of years, since everyone seems to be talking about prices leveling.
To be honest, I don't really see it happening, but I can hope.
*Hopes*
Yeah, I have a friend looking for one too. Seems ery wierd. I need to find a career for when I finish uni, then get my ass on the property ladder too. Although I'm holding out for a crash in the next couple of years, since everyone seems to be talking about prices leveling.
To be honest, I don't really see it happening, but I can hope.
*Hopes*
Heh, I felt old too, until I read goaty's reply.
Then I remembered something an old guy said, he refuses to see himself as older than 29, and lives how he did then.
He's awesome.
How old do I want to be today?
Then I remembered something an old guy said, he refuses to see himself as older than 29, and lives how he did then.
He's awesome.
How old do I want to be today?
Goatboy wrote:
> Being old is making that "euooof" sound when you stand up
> or sit down, discovering a couple of silver hairs and hangovers
> lasting all day and into the next.
Ah, 'silver' hairs. I had my first at around 24/25. Three years later, they're becoming more common, but nothing to worry about. I'll never go Grecian.
And those hangovers? I've given up heavy drinking because of those bad boys.
> Being old is making that "euooof" sound when you stand up
> or sit down, discovering a couple of silver hairs and hangovers
> lasting all day and into the next.
Ah, 'silver' hairs. I had my first at around 24/25. Three years later, they're becoming more common, but nothing to worry about. I'll never go Grecian.
And those hangovers? I've given up heavy drinking because of those bad boys.
Ah, thats all right then.
The English borders should cut into half of Glasgow and make Scotland a much nicer place.
The English borders should cut into half of Glasgow and make Scotland a much nicer place.
Not up the West End matey... it is full of those arty people I used to insult last year.
If you can't beat 'em
If you can't beat 'em
Glasgow?!?
Stab, Stab, Rape, Rape, Bang, Bang.
In that order...
Stab, Stab, Rape, Rape, Bang, Bang.
In that order...
I used to get slightly saddened about getting old but I'm only 19, moving into my shag pad in the West End of Glasgow and own a lot of lubbly things due to earning money through blood and sweat.
22
oh, and the Isle of Wight
oh, and the Isle of Wight
[URL]http://uk.mobile.yahoo.com/sounds/monotones/details/34444/the-bluebells/young-at-heart.html?auto=1[/URL]
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