Finishing sixth form has left me undoubtedly bamboozled about the future- upon recieving grades I didn't particually wish for, because somehow exams seem to have it in for me, but still leaving with acceptable grades none the less. I've been forced into a current storm of mindfuck, otherwise known as the world of work. Due to my colleges blatent prejudice against older students, i've been forced into realising that college for a third year and my obviously horrific age may not be a good idea after all and instead i'm going to have to get a job (if thats even possible, in london its more like attempting and failing miserably).
In my utter state of biwilderment and quite frankly well earned kharma for calling both my sister and my partner dolescum for getting job seekers allowance, its now become a part of my reality and as of the very near future i'm going to endure the dolescum status. Oh dear indeed. However, as my plans are usually the best inventions ever and I can get out of just about every sticky situation, i've figured (and been advised) to apply to a number of jobs, even if their crap, just so I can have some money, because right now being skint has quite frankly lost its novelty and I want some money.
There are too many material things I yearn for and I wont be satisfied until I have all of the pretty little things stored in my bedroom. Plus I need a bookshelf, my books are spewing off the sides of my shelves, its not even funny any more.
HOWEVER, this sudden realisation of not having go back to college means I can sit on my arse and read all of my books and the future books I wont be able to help myself buying.
Ahwell, an update on my struggle to find work will be in order during the coming months. So indulge yourselves in my misery.
Peace.
