The Unbearable Darkness of Life

... oh, I'm so goth.

That's totally misleading, though. Yes, I am still finding the whole career prospect depressing. A few years ago I worked a summer in Little Chef, a kind of motorway restaurant- like a greasy-spoon truck stop, but without the convivial charm. All the time I was there it felt like I had cut an artery and was watching my life drip messily into the cheap carpet for £3.60 per drop. My eyes went from woodsy green to a bleak grey, they really did. And I'm not talking about some kind of mysterious eleven grey, I'm talking about a Industrial Cleaner and Microwaved Food grey. This isn't how I want my future to be. The trouble is that Oxford is a place where you still find upper-middle-class Victorian attitudes to work and money... people who expected to take over the family business, the mercantile aristocracy that we all thought got wiped out by WWI. (Tip: they're still around, it's just that now they can use air travel to make it even easier to dodge taxation). I once heard someone talk about "the ABC of Oxbridge careers: Accountancy, Banking and Management Consultancy".

Crushing.

I think I could be happy addding up for a lviing, but I'd need to be adding up for a reason, rather than just "because I get paid if I do". In my dreams, I'd live in a world with no money... yes, I'm a Castles in the Clouds Socialist.

To a lesser extent I'm depressed by the First and Second Crushing Truths- readers of Bertrand Russel may know what I'm talking about: everyone else will have to wait for me to explain in a future post.

Now I'm going to a tute: Then I;m going to watch Father Ted and eat chocolate and stroke a rabbit, or something.

Song in my head: "Aisha" by Death in Vegas