Hello,
I have been asked why I always start my blog posts with 'hello'. Truth be told I have no real idea. I'm just trying to keep it chatty and prevent fevered willy waving in my box. Lots of blogs have very grand ideas about themselves and I daresay they should. For they seem like a right bunch of clever clogs at times. Regulars will be aware that my blog is not one of them. Instead it is the fevered thoughts of a perfectly pleasant lady cruelly afflicted with what Quentin Crisp termed 'Soho poverty', all the airs and graces of genius but none of the talent.
I only had the briefest of brushes with higher education. Unfortunately I was the last person in the world to realise that they'll let any old balloon in and refused all my university offers on the grounds that I was far too silly for serious study. I confidently predicted my school mates would be kicked out within the year for being chumps. You can imagine how thrilled I was to be proved wrong on that score and how pleased I am to see them on Friends Reunited boasting about their holiday homes. I do have a degree of sorts via the Open University but I don't think one is meant to count that. Not because it's any easier but because what university is really about is networking and gaining the ability to fake deep learning. No home study course can give you that.
The more I look back, the more it all become clear. I was born in the wrong social class. Let me stress that I was not poor growing up. My parents struggled to leave the working classes behind and attain the status of skint in a leafy suburb. God bless them none of this is their fault. When I say I was born in the wrong social class what I mean is that I am not proper posh.
Proper posh goes beyond mere money. It is the ability to leave the house with a hole in your stockings and a slice of toast stuck to your arse without anyone thinking any less of you. It means you can announce that you are going to your studio without anyone wetting themselves or to be able to swan off round the world for five years and still be minted.
As it is I am a mere baw hair off bankruptcy and am being forced to downsize to what used to be called council housing in order to have any peace of mind or control over my circumstances. Are any of my readers swishing boho types liberated from the world of daily toil? If so how did you do it?
I only ask because I read in a self help book that you should behave 'as if' in order to achieve one's goals. So tell me how do I get paid for being a slightly absent minded toff that writes and sells mystical trinkets. The old welfare rights game has given me up. A new career is called for.
Cheerio
2 comments:
Clairwil as someone who is the child of the Bob/Thelma generation i too share your frustrations. My Mum/dad have money unlike myself who has little money despite a university education.
University is a waste of time it who you know that matters, not what you know. As part of the lower middle classes I do not have such contacts and this led to three years unemployment.
I have a job at my local council and would you believe despite the open recruitment policies the local council is as nepotistic as it comes. For example the former council leaders sister and her daughter work for the council. The only reason i work for the council is because nobody wanted my job which is admin at a day centre for the learning disabled and the pays shit.
So no your not the only one suffering from marxist rage.
Well at least I'm not alone.
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