As I Xi It v2.3

Simply put, I’m not completely happy with life at the moment. Yes, I know that my life could be worse, a lot worse. I could be a starving child in rural Africa not knowing when my next meal would be and have lost all my family due to famine, genocide or illegal diamond mining, but I’m not. I’m living quite comfortably in my middle-class suburban neighbourhood in a first world country (you wouldn’t be able to guess that from the state of The Tube, but I digress), with the means to pop down to Sainsbury’s for whatever my stomach desires and have a plethora of people who care about me. While I appreciate the things I have and the people around me, I’m still not satisfied because I have no job. Money isn’t the main issue, god knows I have more than enough things as it is, it’s the fact that I feel unwanted and don’t have a purpose in life.

I suspect it’s almost like having dementia but with a heightened awareness that your mind is going to pot. I’ve had a fairly privileged education, went to public school for the majority of my formative years followed by a couple of years at a world class university. In amongst all that, there were the internships and work experiences. There’s a lot of information in that squishy grey matter encased in my cranium but it’s not really being used to it’s full potential and I don’t like that.

With every day that passes, I feel like my brain cells are atrophying from lack of use. Although I’m reading a lot, it’s all a bit passive, nothing is being practically used at the moment. I was reading Silent Spring the other night and several things popped up in my mind with regards to the Water Framework Directive and REACH but I couldn’t remember them in any great detail. Had I been reading it a few years ago, I’d be able to knock off a mini essay about each directive without much effort. In the end, I resorted to looking them up on my iPhone. As fond as I am of my iPhone, it can’t replace my brain.

I dunno, maybe I’m just greedy. Maybe I should just blow my money gallivanting around the world and then kill myself. I’d rather meet an untimely demise while climbing Everest or cage-less shark diving than end up in a nursing home, unable to control my bowel movements in forty-fifty years time.