Para Bellum.: Afternoon exams are the absolute worst.
Three hours of Taxation isn’t particularly thrilling, but returning in time for dinner is taking the piss. That and the fact that I’ve never mastered what to do in the morning? Anything other than revision makes me feel guilty, and so afternoon exams wipe out the entirety of my day.
This is what I think…
Ideally I want a job near Newcastle, and depending on how good things go I want to be there eventually, if I get the Met Office thing, after the first few months there’s a good chance ill end up working there because I’ll get a say in it.
Obviously we have to be flexible at first because we’re all desperate for a good job and that’s just one of those things you can’t be stubborn about it’s just the way the world works right
…At the same time, at the risk of sounding sentimental, I think being around family and long term decent friends, having a mental ‘home’, a local pub, a community of people who know you in place you belong is very valuable and something money can’t compensate.
Don’t let capitalism tell you that you’re just a pawn for a company who can lob money at you to be shoved around the globe at the whim of a psychopath in a suit for the ultimate benefit of a handful of psychopaths in suits.
There was a businessman I met on a train from London to Newcastle once (he was called Leon!) who said he ‘didn’t really have a home’, and grew up in Kent and was living in York for a few months for the time being and ‘moved around a lot’.
I just felt sorry for him, how can money make up for everything that should be so important to people.
You don’t get enough credit for some of your arguments Leon, that was presented very well!
Yeah, that’s the thing. I do absolutely adore Bristol, it has to be one of the most beautiful, hilariously quirky cities that I’ve ever been to and everyone is simply lovely.
But you’re right, it’s important to have a solid foundation. Sometimes, I’ve returned to the flat [weird how I still call it “the flat” and never “home” haha] following a particularly horrific day, and a hug from some of my best mates just wouldn’t cut it. Three years on and at the age of twenty-one, I sometimes still need my mum. This will be especially true over the next few years, given that I’m pursuing a career filled with ruthless CorporateLADs.
I have no doubt that I’d be able to deal, regardless of where I end up. However, I agree that the main thing that sucked about going to a university so far away was the inability to just pop back home whenever I desired. But then the people I know who live close to home don’t feel the need to take advantage of it. Perhaps I’m upset not by the fact that I need to be home, but that in Bristol, I don’t even have the option.
The thought of going back home seems to scare me a little, and I recently figured out why. In my head, it almost feels as though I’m taking a step back in life, the fact that I made a massive thing of spending the last three years living ridiculously far away and now I have nothing to show for it. Regardless of how much I miss home sometimes, I’m so scared of fucking up, coming back, and that being the end of it. At least if I lived somewhere else, I’d be doing SOMETHING.
If that’s the case, then perhaps I should take places like Leeds or Edinburgh! Happy compromise and they both have korfball clubs…