We’re all aware that in the desperate process of trying to be unique and original, we become sheep.
In my day we called them Goths, they just didn’t have floppy girl-hair.
In some way, we’re all sheep. The pseudo-intellectual has something going for them, thinking out of the box…but they never seem to stop and enjoy life (how many of these do we know?). The narcissistic actor/journalist/presenter that does nothing but tell the world how amazing they are, through what they incorrectly assume are subtle techniques. And then there are those of us who desperately don’t want to grow up, they still want to keep going against the flow.
That’s me. I’ve always thought finances overrated. If we could go back to bartering days, I’d be as happy as a pig in poo. I’d trade poetry for potatoes and enjoy every moment of my life. I started my own business, not because I didn’t want to make money for someone else, but because each day, travelling back and forth to work, a sharp thought twisted and plunged: So this is how we humans decided to spend our lives? Bugger that.
The bigger picture is a curse. I could be happily working in some
investment (okay, I’m fucking terrible with numbers) media company, working my way up, meeting people, meeting someone, settling down and living my ‘life.’ I don’t judge people like that, I envy them.
Now my company is a year old, I’m going on 30, my friends have all risen high up in their respective companies and are raking it in. They’re no longer getting married, they are married, or they’re getting divorced. They’re on their 2nd and 3rd child. They’ve bought houses, sold houses, bought and sold cars (I’ve bought one, but was saved the ‘selling’ bit by a friendly security company turning my little Uno into scrap metal), they’ve been given promotion after promotion and almost all of them have a pension.
I’m not doing badly, I’m earning more than I did in my last salary, which wasn’t bad, and this is after only a year of being in business. I’m pretty darned proud of myself, but I’ve started to realise that I have no investment, apart from my car. If something should happen, I’m screwed.
So now I find myself considering buying property. The thought scares the bejesus out of me. How grown up is that? Owning something as big as a tiny flat? Probably another copy & paste job? Only because I want some form of safety net. I’d do it wisely, keep a cheap ass rental for me and rent out the bought flat for an exorbitant amount of money that only barely covers the monthly installments. I spoke to a bond guy, and I need to earn slightly more to apply for a bond. It’s easily done, I only need to make one more monthly sale.
But I don’t want to. I’m happy earning what I’m earning. I’m happy clinging desperately to my youth. I’m happy being transient and not being responsible.
So, my little sheep friends, what made you grow up and how hard did you fight it?