If I had asked my teenage self where I thought I would be as I approach the end of my third decade on this earth, I would have, without doubt, seen myself in a comfortable job (with a pretty high level of employment security), owning a small but cosy house somewhere in the 'burbs, with a dog and a nice little run-around car. Once upon a generation, these things were not beyond the reach of a young professional.
Instead, however, I find myself in a job, which although I love dearly, offers as much security as a chocolate fireman in the ever-tempestuous market of the EFL industry. I am living at the bottom of my overdraft in a job which, if my P60 is anything to believe, offers a net salary somewhere below the national minimum wage, supplemented by all-weather busking and private lessons with all-too-often sporadic students.
As such, I have had my head down of late, battling against the rising tide of depression with a trident of determination set on sorting my ruddy life out once and for all.
The dreamer in me has finally summoned the courage to do what I have been promising myself for years, and has auditioned for both The Voice and The X-Factor in the unlikely and yet seemingly possible fast-pass to a smidgeon of success, and although I have no pretence of getting anywhere, I have already made it through a couple of rounds of the former, so perhaps I stand a half chance of at least a few wedding gigs out of it if I can get some TV exposure.
The realist, meanwhile, is fighting valiantly against the ever-baying wolves of bills at the door, and is beginning to wonder whether it's time to pack in this teaching malarkey. Sure, I love my students, but it's time now to look to the future, and perhaps a job in copywriting would be a little more financially viable. Sure, I wouldn't enjoy it quite as much, but at least perhaps I could take a bit of a breather once in a while when it comes to the battle between monthly bills and the decision to eat.
So apologies, dear reader, for a somewhat more bleak than usual post, but this is where I have been of late. With continued oomph, perhaps soon I'll get out of this slump, both financial and psychological, and get some more positive posts coming your way.
The day I can afford a bath I can actually lay down in and take a load off; that'll be the day I can relax.
On the plus side, only eleven days 'till Jurassic World! Suppose it's not all doom and gloom!
Adulthood sucks. Good luck with whatever your next steps end up being.
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