Golly gosh, where do I begin? I haven’t written here for what — 2 months now? Despite my grand promises of updating every week, life inevitably gets in the way. And, whenever I do go to update, my Blog ideas end up being out of date.
Let me fill you all in on the brilliant ideas I have had for Blogs in the last few months. There was that brilliant piece I had mapped out in my head that was meant to coincide with the release of Matrix: Reloaded, intertwining global media corporations and Matrix philosophy. Then there was the brilliant piece about Michael Jackson, and that bit about why I actively avoid Harry Potter and want to strangle Avril Lavigne, or… ok, I think you get the point. I had a lot of really good Blog ideas and I never wrote any of them.
Why? You ask? Well, For the first time ever, Téa has ventured into the big wide world of the 9–5. The hustle and bustle of peak hour traffic and the smell of soggy homemade lunches. That’s right — I got myself a job.
For years, people have been telling me that I should join the real world, and escape the insular, protective shell of University life. Why they thought I wasn’t in the real world is beyond me — I think that cleaning grease-catches and making souvlaki for intoxicated accountants for $4 an hour is about as real-world as you can get. I suppose its more a strategy for fobbing off intelligent conversation. But anyway. I have, for all intents and purposes, joined the “real world”, where people don’t have time to write humourous (apparently) columns, troll usenet or talk about insignificant crap with American feral mothers. I have entered a world where no matter how creative, no matter how brilliant, or no matter how committed we are to surfing for porn, we all do the same thing: flop on the couch at 6pm and go to sleep by 9:30.
That’s right. I have been eaten by the work monster. That beast that usurps all my creative energy, and lets my hard earned finger callouses from years of guitar playing go soft. It makes my webpage feel neglected and my Yahoo! groups have a gaping great hole where there was once insignificant diatribe. It leaves my IM windows unanswered, my phone messages ignored, and that 20 pages of the novel I started go unwritten. I used to iron clothes once every 2 weeks or so. Now I iron every day. And I wear stockings. I hate stockings. I always said that there was one way to know you were officially a grownup — and that is that you wear stockings more than once a month.
You may be thinking right about now “gawd, you’d think she was the only person to ever start working full time!” Don’t get me wrong, as far as jobs go, I have a good one, but sometimes I don’t feel there is a lot of scope for Uni graduates in particular to be able to adjust. When you are someone like me who is particularly creative, and actually has physical withdrawals when I am not writing, or drawing, or playing music, it is a major culture shock going from University to full time work. First of all, University was invented so that people could sit around, smoke pot and think about life. It allows self-expression, creativity, and exploration of all things magical in this world, like philosophy, art, and popular culture (It also enables a lot of TV viewing, such as Springer, Bold and the Beautiful and Passions, but that is another story altogether!). Secondly, there is all this free time. Sure, you’d need to get up for that “early” lecture at 9am once a week, but for the most part, Uni work was on your own terms and to your own schedule. Then, the unwitting graduate walks into a job where there is structure and process and post it notes and a computer that actually uses the Calendar and Tasks in Outlook. And suddenly 11 hours a day is gone. And then whammo — all of a sudden you are consumed by paper and phone calls and process and paper — and before you know it, you have neglected your web pages, your music and your writing, and bit by bit you lose a little piece of yourself that you’ll never get back.
Maybe I was just never really cut out for the 9–5 in a strict sense. I don’t have patience for detail, and worst of all, I really get stifled and bored very quickly if I am not creatively stimulated (shaddup dirty minded people). I have been seriously contemplating the idea of doing a Dip Ed in 2004, then heading out to a country school to teach in 2005. I suppose everyone idealises certain career paths, but my whole life I have been drawn to teaching. And especially being in an office environment (even though that particular environment is fantastic), I don’t know if I am really cut out for it. I need to be constantly challenged, moved and entertained — and I have a strong desire to make a difference in people’s lives. And, I don’t have to wear stockings.
Maybe I just belong in an education environment for the rest of my life. I am so happy when I am teaching others or learning that I suppose its the natural choice. But then that would mean I’d need to escape the “real world”.
Is that such a bad thing? After all, 99.9% of people in the Matrix live in blissful ignorance.The Matrix Versus The Real World and Soggy Sandwiches…