Well, sort of. Underneath the Douglas Adams reference, I am talking about that large expanse of space in front of me called life. Some call it beautiful, others a mystery, but I've suddenly decided to make it a massive fucking headache. With all this free time on my hands, I've decided to start thinking about where I want to go in life. What do I want to do. What do I want to be when I grow up.
Well, in truth, I have no idea. Seems strange that I have hopefully only been alive for 20-25% of my life, and now I feel like I need to decide what I am actually going fill the rest with. I've tackled this thought previously, concluding with a variety of options; train driver, motoring journalist, doctor, pharmacist (it turned out that I didn't like blood), pharmacist, owner of pharmacist shop/part-time surfer, nothing, nothing, local government, politics, local government, politics, nothing, motoring journalist again, barrister, solicitor, aaaaaaand finally teacher. Hmm.
I was fortunate enough to be able to do a mini-pupilage in a barrister's chambers last week, which was a fantastic experience (I haven't stopped mentioning it. Quite sad, really). Before that, I had a few bits and pieces as a tutor, tutoring kids in English and Maths. Before that, I worked in a chemist, and I've managed to speak to a large group of people about their jobs along the way. Now, back to the mini-pupilage. Every barrister I spoke to said they would not do it again, or recommend it. Many teachers I have encountered have said that they would not do it again and would not recommend it. I spoke to a few pharmacists, and not many would recommend it, however there wasn't as negative a response as the others. I have spoken to my dad, who wouldn't recommend his job. I have spoken to my mam, who wouldn't recommend her old job. Everyone I have spoken to says that their job is shit and they wouldn't go near it if given a second chance. I think you see the pattern.
So, from my highly scientific experiment conducted in pubs, gatherings and the workplace, no-one likes their job. No-one gets up early, eager and excited about going to work. Not one. Not a sausage.
Well, isn't that a kick in the teeth. They make it sound like life ends at 25. Pick your poison and be done with it. It's definitely starting to feel like that. Pick your poison.
Thinking about things from the perspective that no-one likes their job, I've decided to change tactics in choosing a career. I've stopped looking for something that I'll get up everyday and feel that I have hit the jackpot when I stroll into work, because it seems that is not reality. I'm starting to look at what pays well with the most amount of holidays/days off. Now, I know some fishermen work 6 weeks a year and get paid a full year's wages for it, but I'm not exactly and outdoors person. Teaching seems to be the next best thing. Teaching. That's right, the thing you vowed never to do, no matter how poor you are. 'Do you want to be a teacher then, if you're doing English Lit?' 'Yes, probably' will now be my answer. Teachers complain about their jobs but let's look at things from a realistic perspective; you aren't having bullets fired at you, no-one dies if you drop a bollock. You retire with a handsome pension and enjoy your time off. It's essentially keeping children occupied and hoping they learn something before their parents pick them up at half past 3, leaving you to tidy up, organise things for tomorrow and go home.
I understand that you have the stress of making sure that 30 rabid children don't tear each other apart, and that is it. Worrying about displays and boards being tidy is not a source of stress. It is not essential to my breathing, it is not essential to the life or health of the pupils. Don't stress about it. It's essentially painting. Chill out.
I can already hear people saying 'Well you give it a go if you think it's so easy!' Well kind people, I am about to. First week in September, I shall be there, in a class full of real, feral children, for a week. If I come out at the of the week and think that life isn't so bad, then I will be become a teacher. I will turn up at half past 8, go home at some point, and enjoy my 9 month a year job and be happy. I will spend my salary on things that will make me happy, and I shall enjoy life to the fullest, knowing that I have 6 weeks off in the summer and 6 weeks off in the rest of the year. Not a bad combo, if you ask me.
So, now I am at a semi-conclusion as to what I would like to do for the rest of my life, I will end this post. If I hate being a teacher, then we are back to the drawing board. A lot of people say that the most interesting people they have come across still don't know what they want to do in life. Well, I don't really care. Ideally, I would like a safe job that has it's perks, but ultimately I know I will hate it. Coming to terms with this is quite enlightening. It's not overly pleasant, but hey. C'est la vie.
