Condominium Life with Joey Tribbiani

I always envied the cast of Friends. For a group of twenty-somethings that rarely seem to go to work (yes we all know they all have jobs that suit their characters and whatnot), they lead a pretty cushty life. Lovely downtown apartment, partying hard at weekends, going to trendy coffee shops, and generally doing what TV has always told us we should be doing in our mid-twenties; enjoying life to the max.

Unfortunately, TV, as much as I love you, this evening I'm calling your bluff. You sir, are a downright liar.

The years of being a twenty-something a far from perk-filled (central or otherwise). Throughout the previous decade, we were told that if we worked hard at school, we'd go to a good university. If we worked hard there we would automatically find ourselves in a good job and living the life of the Gellars and the Bings in no time.

The reality is, however, that unless you have been born into a thriving family business, or you know a guy that knows a guy, no amount of striving will get you anywhere in this post-credit crunch world. I myself have a double bachelors degree, a masters, a teaching certificate and enough brownie points on my CV to open a bakery, not to mention fifteen years in private education with all the top grades to prove it, and yet I still find myself losing sleep as to how I'm going to be able to pay next week's rent.

Don't get me wrong, I don't kid myself that my experiences have any worth nowadays; indeed in the post-Blair regime, a degree is worth about the same as a roll of Andrex (and probably cheaper too judging by my shopping bills!), but I have single-handedly fought my way into a decent teaching post, and on paper the pay isn't all that bad.

And yet here I am on a Saturday night, just back from the laundrette, sitting in a "condominium" flat that would still have looked dated in the nineteen seventies, the floral carpet and brown bathroom suite quite honestly an affront to four out of five senses. My "treat" for this week, save for an after work pint with my colleagues (during which an old man decided to inform me that I looked like a child molester... Great ego boost for a teacher, I can tell you!) has been an M&S spinach and ricotta cannelloni. And a reduced to clear one at that. Paid for with gift vouchers.

I don't begrudge my life at all; I've always said as long as you're happy in what you're doing the rest will follow thereafter. But a few extra pennies here and there might be nice... The ability to order out pizza, to go for lunch with a friend without wondering whether I'll still have enough change for the washing machine... Perhaps one day I might even get a lazy boy. Or a play station, 'cause I hear play station is whack...