Pre-life crisis, coming on strong.
Time ticks irrepressibly on by, not giving any respite except that blessed Sunday morn once a year that gives you an extra hour in bed. I love that extra hour, but it does have to be weighed against the vicious killer of small children in the spring. If that lost hour was a person it would be sectioned. I don’t like it. But anyway – the pre-life crisis, you’ll be pleased to hear, is still coming on strong. To the point, as you will have read last week, that I am considering reading poetry. I appear to have regressed right back to the angsty point that people usually process in their mid-teens, I even have a couple of hateful spots on my capacious chin.
A pre-life crisis is the worry of what’s to come, the nervousness of having the faintest tossing clue what you even want to come. The upside of this is that I’ve never yet met an adult who is doing what they wanted to be when they grew up, but I’d still like to have something not to aim for. My two options are the moment are writing and politics, neither of which I really have the stomach to get into at the moment, and possibly (of all the industries one might choose) the most fickle and dicey going. Where do I even start? I suppose I could be said to have started on both already, but getting nowhere fast.
As a neat side-dish we get to my Christian faith, where as a young man you quickly learn to heap an irrational and unreasonable amount of pressure upon yourself to sidle up to a nice young Christian girl (and there are certainly plenty of them, unfortunately none of it is mutual), where you then beg her to shack up with you and fill the earth.
The pre-life crisis point itself comes when I take a moment to sit and dwell upon my utter unsuccessitude in either area. It comes to something, doesn’t it, when you feel washed up and on the shelf at 24. Still, on with life…
Tags: I've been thinking...
October 31st, 2008 at 2:12 pm
Please, whatever you do, do not succumb to reading poetry. I’d rather see you addicted to absinthe.
October 31st, 2008 at 7:36 pm
You are feeling washed up & on the shelf at 24?
God help me then, lol.
When you aren’t looking it shall happen, look too hard it won’t!
And go to a good Presbyerian Church when you are staying in London, there’s 2 you can pick from: Crown Court, in Covent Garden don’t know the new minister, heard ex forces chaplain, and there’s St Columbia’s don’t know who is now in there but its the one used in Ab Fab for its ’sins’ and its not far from Harrods.
November 1st, 2008 at 5:42 pm
I don’t know if I have the stomach, SamT (!) - I’m a delicate wee soul.
You don’t like poetry then Ed? I’ve tried absinthe, it wasn’t my thing.
November 2nd, 2008 at 6:11 pm
Poetry can be just as damaging to a mind as absinthe, or worse.
November 10th, 2008 at 10:08 pm
Yes, if only you could witness the havoc wreaked by rhyming couplets.