Just a man and his will to survive.
No seriously - is this it until I’m 70? I’m knackered already, I’m not Rocky Balboa, I don’t think I could take everything that London has to hit me with and still keep fighting, eye of the tiger and all that. The thrill of the fight? Calm down, I’d rather be sat in a ‘Bucks reading books and slurping a chai latte with a little sprinkling of nutmeg and vanilla on top. The extra mile, going a little further? I feel like I’ve already used up my allotted share of that pixie dust on mildly ungrateful student body. They do say that every political career ends in failure - perhaps mine will end in failure before it has the chance to do so more spectacularly.
I think I would sacrifice a greater career for my own sanity and well-being - I would rather be happy than successful, whatever potential I had within me. I see these politicians wandering round looking prematurely aged, why kill yourself for people who won’t remember your name in 5 years? Some people have a special calling to change things for the better, to take their country by the scruff of the neck and change it a little for the better - I’m a member of the Liberal Democrats, that’s not gonna happen to me. This, this ladies and chaps, is the essence of pre-life crisis, this is what I’m talking about - the fundamentals, the building blocks of the next forty years. What could I see myself doing, that will get me up and out of a bed with a smile? I feel a tinge of guilt at the thought of doing something I enjoy, like it’s not quite allowed. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy what I’m doing now, but that’s because it’s what I’m doing now.
Whose advert is it that finishes with the tagline ‘because life’s complicated enough’? Are they going bankrupt at the moment?
Tags: pre-life crisis