Fourth year: a stream of consciousness

I want a job. No, I need a job. I both want and need a job. I have not applied to enough jobs. What is a job anyway? How am […]


I want a job.

No, I need a job.

I both want and need a job.

I have not applied to enough jobs.

What is a job anyway?

How am I to even know what to apply to? I didn’t take Econ or a Science, and I don’t want to be a lawyer or a teacher, I don’t want to be sat at a desk for the next five years saving up for a flat I don’t want and dating a man who will just about do and happens to live quite near, and I don’t want to get fat.

I do not want a job.

I do not need a job!

Is it too late to apply to a postgraduate course at Oxford/Cambridge/Durham? I could definitely spend another year or two discussing the metaphysical aspects of John Donne’s calves, or the significance of blushing in the works of Hardy!

It is too late to apply.

I cannot be a postgraduate.

I do not want to go to Oxford/Cambridge/Durham and be a postgraduate!

How will this help me in life when I don’t even know what career I want? And I’d hate to spend another year in a new bubble, with endless knee-slapping haw haws over polo and Pimms, and yards of Barbour and insecurity!

No, perhaps, London. Perhaps I should go to London.

I want to go to London.

But, where will I get the money? I can’t be fabulous on a student budget, nor will I do well as a waitress or bartender, and property is so expensive, oyster cards don’t grow on trees.

I want a job.

No, I need a job.

I both want and need a job

 

Photo: © st-andrews.ac.uk