There was a time when if you reached retirement you were lucky. Before pensions retirement didn’t exist if you were working class or female.
These days there are people who spend their entire lives in miserable jobs just to enjoy a relatively secure retirement. A pointless exercise as far as I can tell.
Today in the news, life apparently begins at 80. That’s a lot of years to get through to reach an age where your body is already too knackered through drink, drugs and obesity to enjoy the pension you have probably already blown.
I hope I don’t reach retirement and that I am always well enough to work. At the rate I am going only the state pension beckons and I expect I’ll be working until the day I drop dead.
If you believed everything a meme told you, women would be impossible to reason with, psychotic when they didn’t get their own way and drunk. Herein lies another bunch of cliches.
Memes have been around for ages and most of them play on some very cheesy old traditional stereotypes. They plague my newsfeed like an annoying mosquito and no amount of bug spray will remove them.
As someone who is generally laid back despite the challenges that get thrown in my general direction, and doesn’t need alcohol to prop up my life or give me the confidence I am apparently lacking, I find these memes hard to relate to. In fact, I find them more than a little bit insulting.
It’s an easy conversion from generic Someecards to posting an embarassing picture of your unconsciously drunk friend with a few words thrown on it. Hey, it’s a meme!
That’s not to say I’m perfect. But I’ve learnt my lesson, discovered who I am and just don’t need it anymore. And wine most definitely falls into that category.
Every so often I am thankfully reminded that I am not the only one struggling to follow their dream. I am also reminded that good stuff is often followed by bad stuff and that not all good things come to those who wait.
I once knew someone (briefly thankfully) who thought that every time he did something for someone else he deserved to get something back. It was a floored theory because his life was a miserably hollow existence.
Hearing that others that are in similar positions to me and that I’m not the only one pondering on the whole point of human existence, is comforting. It’s easy to forget when you work alone and without the regular and vast contact of others in similar positions, that we are all pretty much in the same boat.
Real success stories, no matter how many of them we may think we know (and are artifically bigged up thanks to social media) are few and far between and often marred with failures until quite late in the day.
Continually striving for success is not always rewarded. History will tell you that. And as modern statistics remind us, we need to allow 3 to 5 years before realising it was all worth it.
It’s been two months and I am still trying to find somewhere to live. The problem is, if your income is unpredictable or limited you may be restricted to house shares. And finding enough space to function in this environment is difficult. In fact, you might go mad.
I’ll be honest, I hate living with random strangers. You know nothing about the people you end up thrown together with and they may turn out to be nutters. I don’t have much luck with houseshares, this is a known fact.
Living of this kind is the domain of people with no possessions, no furniture and who are happy to sleep in a bed that’s been occupied by who knows. It’s my last resort but it’s also potentially a roof over my head.
Space is at a premium wherever you go and private renting is too expensive. Bedsits, worse than house shares space wise and far more depressing, are very costly. And who wants their cooker next to their bed anyway?
Thanks to ‘buy to let’ and landlords who have turned renting out houses into a profitable business, we’re crammed into tiny bedrooms like battery hens, desperate for something we can afford on crippling part time and zero hours contracts wages.
For me, finding somewhere big enough to sleep and work without me going completely crazy is a challenge. Finding a room as it is, isn’t actually that hard. But if the sacrifice is me giving up my business then I’m going to find myself without a home or without an income.
And it sucks.
What I have to do, is get on with making more money because my only option now is to earn enough to get a place of my own. And time is running out.