Christ, I’m bored.

Christ, I’m bored.

It’s not that I have nothing to do, I mean, I could spring clean the house, read a book, watch TV, write out more job applications, study for my exam next week…

I’m just bored. My life is boring. I haven’t been intellectually inspired or challenged in at least 12 months. I am tired of writing the same old essays about the same old topics, where people on either side are never going to agree anyway. I am tired of working day in, day out and getting absolutely nowhere. I am tired of spending hours and hours reading books, newspapers, and research in my subject area, only to have some moron on the internet decide that everything I do doesn’t matter, because this is a democracy and, as a man, his opinion is more important than mine. And the worst part is, I don’t even care anymore. I went to write a research paper on the effects of advertising on children, and then I realised that I don’t care. I just don’t have it in me to debate “issues” anymore.

And I sit and I wonder, surely there is more to life than this?

I used to imagine myself evenually being free from my life: no shitty childhood, no abusive family, none of the constant struggling for everything. And I thought that the key to this was getting an education and working hard. So I work hard, study hard, at the expense of friendships and hobbies, thinking that eventually it would pay off. Instead, I end up with a degree that is useless, and find myself working for people who find me “so great”, and “highly competitive” that they don’t want me there. So, having sacrificed everything to get ahead in life, I am not even ahead! I really don’t get it.

Save for the few small pleasures (like my daughter), I often wonder if life is going to continue to be this disappointing. Is this what every 25 year old goes through? Is it a sort of rite of passage to suddenly realise that the world is..well… just fucked — no matter how much you think you can escape its realities? If that’s the case, what sort of lie am I leading with my daughter, letting her believe that the world is wonderful, people are nice, and that you can change your destiny if you work hard enough?

Maybe some people are just born to have it hard, every step of the way. I actually joked to my husband that I wouldn’t get a research position that I wanted “because I never get anything I want”. Maybe that’s just the way things are? Maybe I am just meant to work hard for ever and ever, and eventually just end up writing a novel about it? Maybe this is all part of a huge journey and i’ll reah a point when I am fifty and actually happy…

Sometimes I think I should just become a breeder. They seem to have it so easy, cooking and cleaning and sewing and baking. And then I remember that I am infertile… fuck it.

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