Fever Dreams

First off, it’s bloody October. Crazy.

I’m pretty ill at the mo, so my days are consisting of feeling sorry for myself in between binging series and downing mugs of Lemsip. This is also why I haven’t posted in a while, feeling pretty inhuman leads to some intense writers block. Instead, I’ve just been considering whether or not I could do the jobs of the people I’ve been watching. For instance, detective in the NYPD (in the likeness of the infallible Jake Peralta), probably not, since I’d get too mad about my unsolved cases. Living the life of a washed-up sitcom actor drinking away his existential dread may also be dreaming a little too large, I don’t know how Bojack copes with that many hangovers. Torture-dispensing demon learning philosophy with Kristen Bell? Now that’s the real Good Place, I’m in.

Back down to Earth though (see because that’s a common saying, and the show takes place in the afterlife, is why that’s so funny), I constantly see jobs on TV or online or whatever, and think “yeah, I could do that”. The notion of dream jobs seems somewhat childish, yet everyone has something they work towards, even a small change that would make them more comfortable in the position they hold, so may be more reasonable than at first glance. I’m just ‘lucky’ enough to lack being committed to a field already, so can fantasise a little broader. So, I’ve put some thought into one dream and one realistic job I hope whoever is controlling my Sim is directing me towards; hold on folks, this is about to get very cringe very quickly.

Dream – Voice Actor

Hear me out. This is my shout for the ideal level of fame, all the benefits with none of the annoyances. Imagine being that rich, and beloved by so many, yet able to walk down the street in relative anonymity; anyone who stops you must be a keen fan to know your face and won’t be wasting your time asking for a photo just for the sake of it. Even with total strangers, you have the ultimate ice-breaker on you at all times. I bet the guy who does Mario has pulled that out in a bar countless times, his self confidence must be off the charts. Plus, you get to live out everyone’s dream of turning up to work in your pyjamas without it being an issue, which I think we can all agree is the dream.

The only downside to this I can conceive of is if you were like at a party or something and started to do your iconic voice, and no-one believed you were actually that character. Like, imagine Dan Castellaneta pissed out his mind and people telling him he does “a really good Homer Simpson”, heads would be rolling.

Realistic – Philosophy Lecturer

When I was attending them, the ongoing joke at university open days was that the only job for those with a philosophy degree is teaching others how to get a philosophy degree. At the time, I laughed this off. Yeah yeah, the subject is irrelevant now, since we’re not living in ancient Greece I’m wasting my time, togas and white beards all round eh? But, now I’m into my third month of living at home, I’m really starting to worry that the subject is irrelevant and I need to find a way to get to ancient Greece…

Regardless, all through my life I have had people telling me they could see me ending up as a teacher (is that a compliment? Or do I just look like I’m capable of being bullied by a group of teenagers?). I’ve been considering doing a masters since I left York, and if the jokes really are as true as they seem, I may well end up proving these people right. Planning my own little lectures, having my own little office and months off at a time to work on my own little book all sound extremely tempting, and I bet if you’re a likeable lecturer you feel like a mini-celebrity walking around campus. I once went on a philosophy society night out where we all wore shirts with the outline of our favourite lecturers beard and moustache on them, I’d want that on my bloody tombstone if that happened to me. Need to be able to grow facial hair first though, I suppose.

Do I talk about uni too much in these things? I feel as if I always end up coming back to it, must be torture to read. Anyway, just a bit of fun, something a bit more casual and hopeful to entertain my mind in the few hours it manages to keep me conscious for. It’s been quite fun to be fair, and makes me wonder what everyone else would say, given a free choice. Stunt man? Game reviewer? Zoo owner? I once had a kid tell me he wanted to be a dolphin shaver when he grew up, I hadn’t the heart to tell him; let’s all keep dreaming like him instead.

‘Til the next time everyone

Dan

Life, postponed

Recently, I’ve been spending way too much time in my house. I’m struggling with being back here if I’m honest, but am also way too bone idle to actually do something to help with that. People talk a lot about how big some jumps in your life are, but for the most part I have paid these no mind, and been able to take these ‘challenges’ in my stride. The workload at university, balancing a weekend job, meeting new people in a totally new place, it all came quite naturally to me. But, giving it all up, was something I never gave much thought to.

I’ve never had this much time on my hands before, usually just diving between one time-consuming venture to the next. Whereas now, I’ve been staying up ’til 3am watching vine compilations, laying in bed till midday, living off snacks, all whilst not getting out of my ‘jamas. I didn’t think this was my natural state. Left to my own devices I always envisioned myself reading philosophy for fun or finally getting in shape, not spiralling back into myself and existing in the most basic way possible for a human being. It’s quite scary in a way, feeling day after day slip away from you at 21, whilst others around you are employed or seeing the world.

Even today, I ventured into Ilkeston and only managed to kill 40 minutes, before coming home and vegging out in front of twitter again. I don’t know if this is down to where I’m from just being awful, or if I’ve become a bit numb with being cooped up for a month. Things seem to be happening around me, rather than to me, which is a massive shock after 3 years forming stories daily. Returning to reality is of course jarring, coming in from a night out and having to tiptoe around my parents makes me feel young in a way I thought I had left behind.

Still, it’s not all doom and gloom though (he says, to try and not make this the most depressing blog post ever written). I am beyond excited for autumn to begin: I dragged my favourite hoodie back out for the first time in months today, have my best friend coming to visit for the Arctic Monkeys gig in a weeks time and have decided that the job hunt begins properly once he’s left. I see that as a potential answer, diving towards the next big step and committing myself to something permanent once again. I wanted this kind of space during my time in York, I would have bit your hand off for a day doing nothing but playing FIFA when I had a 4,000 word essay due the next morning, so I shouldn’t really be complaining. Nevertheless, I feel as if I can vent in this space, and suppose I should’ve watched what I was wishing for.

Regardless, I have confidence I will adjust, get myself a routine together and get on with my life. Anyway, there are worse problems to have I suppose, keep the old chin up and all that.

Plenty to look forward to,
Dan

 

Graduation

I am officially a university graduate.

It still feels a foreign thought, like a squatter in my brain, it’s all over. Realistically, it has been all over for a good couple of months now, what actually changed over the last weekend is that I walked across a stage in front of a couple hundred people who were bored of clapping. Nevertheless, as I sat clutching my degree (basically a glorified achievement certificate you got for attendance at school), I did feel surprisingly proud of myself. Maybe it was the pomp and ceremony of it all, the occasion getting to me, but as I felt the weight of the gown on my shoulders and cap on my noggin’, I really did feel a creeping sense of achievement.

Of course, that was quickly replaced by fear, as the university bubble I used to call home was promptly burst. Have I really achieved something? Should have I gone to uni at all? Or have I just followed the path of least resistance and sat exam after exam about topic after topic just to avoid having to enter the real world for three years? Oh God, is hot in this room or is it just me?

Basically, I do not see university as an inherently worthwhile thing to do. You have to want it, and be prepared to work every day for forty weeks at a time for three years. There are so many reasons to end up at uni: as a means to a specific job, searching for independence, boosting employability or just a passion for a specific subject. I heard examples of all these reasons from the people I met during my time in York, and no one is better than any other, yet without exception uni was seen as the catalyst to enable these goals, not the ultimate thing to be working towards.

Personally, I loved what I studied. Sure, there were bad weeks and things I didn’t connect with, but the good far outweighed the bad! I adored considering trolley problems, the afterlife, time worms, paradoxes, extinction, suffering, effective altruism and the work of some of the greatest ancient minds; just to scratch the surface! When it came to assessment time, I was spoilt for choice, and I was lucky enough to turn that enthusiasm into a grade I never dreamt I could achieve. I think that alone is enough to celebrate with a day in a fancy hat; I got to do what I loved every day for three years.

Walking round campus one final time, I was reminded of  a quote from a film I love, ‘Submarine’:

“Sometimes I wish there was a film crew following my every move. I Imagine the camera craning up as I walk away. But, unless things improve, the biopic of my life will only have the budget for a zoom out.” – Oliver Tate

In the movie of my life so far, university is the cliffhanger ending. Not too suspenseful, I admit, but as I envision the camera pulling away from me standing around taking endless photographs on that day, I am quite satisfied with my little story. Each and every person sat in that graduation ceremony has a story just as unique and worth telling as my own, which is equal parts humbling and inspiring. From here? Who bloody knows, keep spouting my thoughts over the internet, I guess.

‘Til the next time

Dan