I always thought that when I set up this blog and decided one-a-day was my target, that I’d try to write about anything and everything. Everything except my self that is. Sure, my opinions are fair game, but I’d never stray into my own life and… feelings. I set out with the simple rule, that as long as I’m talking about something other than myself, it wouldn’t feel like I’m thirteen and writing absolute nonsense in my livejournal. Unfortunately, as I rode the bus to work, I had one of those moments. You know, one of those moments where you realise your eighteen year old self would be upset at what you had become. How they would wonder about all the ambitions you had, and say something like; “Dude. From past you, to future me, why have you turned out to be a douche? What happened?!”
Looking back to my late teens, I always thought I’d be employed in the graphic design business by now. That I’d be working in a studio, rinsing the shit out of Photoshop and Indesign and feeling like an absolute boss. That hasn’t happened. I’m twenty three and two hundred and fifty nine days old. That means I’m almost twenty four. I am officially more than a quarter of my life old. I had so many dreams, and hopes, and I’ve achieved so few of them. I don’t work in advertising, I haven’t even had a sniff of the business for about two months now, and I suppose I have no one to blame but my self. I’ve had two creative partners and both of them were brilliant guys, but both ‘relationships’ (fnar) have since ended. I blame both splits on myself, just because I’m that kind of guy, and it was probably my fault. In my head it was anyway. I take things to heart too much.
So anyway… Back to the bus ride. I was sitting there, half reading the metro, on my way to a retail job I love, but hate at the same time. Not because I don’t like the job, or the people. In fact, this job was by far one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’ve made amazing friends, and actually enjoy being there, and it’s quite rare people can say that. It’s just that some days I feel quite deflated, probably because it’s not what I want to do if you know what I mean. I’m confused. What am I supposed to do with my life? Where am I supposed to go from here? There’s only so much a talk with the girlfriend, best friend, or mum can do. If I want things to change, then it’s me that needs to do it.
That’s when I flicked the page and read an article that had a headline ‘One out of five Eighteen to Twenty-Four year olds are unemployed’, and that’s when I started to take stock. I have a job. I actually have a job that’s quite fun, and with people I enjoy talking to. I have a lovely flat. A flat that’s in the centre of Manchester. I have a stunning girlfriend who I love more than anything. A girl who puts up with my constant worries, and picks me up every time I’m down. A girl that I’ve been with for almost four years, and couldn’t love more. I have a loving family. A mum who is always there for me. A dad who would drop anything to help me. A brother who buys me drinks when I’m skint, lends me fags when I’ve got none to smoke, lets me crash on his sofa bed on visits to London, and again, would drop anything if I needed him. I have friends, and I mean, really close friends. I’ve got friends in different cities through out the country. I always think I don’t have friends, or that I’m the weak link and can be cut out at any time, but I know that’s not true. All of this dawned on me, while I’m sitting there getting pissy because life doesn’t give everything to me on a plate. Here’s an idea Ciaran; If you want something, how about you fucking work for it.
If I could meet my eighteen year old self, and he said the sentence, “Dude. From past you, to future me, why have you turned out to be such a douche? What happened?!”, I’d probably end up slapping the idiot. I have more than most people ever get in life. I’m privileged to live the life I do. I’m fucking spoilt for good things! Sure, I may not have a job in advertising, but I can work on that. I have a good life, and I would be a fool to think otherwise.
Everyone has their blue days, but I think, and as totally cliché as it sounds, it’s important to remember the good things. It also helps when you realise that you’re not alone. I spoke to some of the guys in work, and they had exactly the same issues as me. In fact, I’m pretty sure 90% of people my age would say something along the same line. I’m actually going to try and pull my finger out; email Rob my old creative partner and see what the crack is, get scamping new ideas, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually do some fucking work, because you know, that’s what I should be doing rather than just whinging about stuff. Fucking hell man. Get over your self! Get out of your own head, and get on with life. It’s pretty fucking good.
Hi, my name is Ciaran Watkins. I’m not living up to the dreams I had when I was younger, but I have a totally boss life, and I’m very thankful for it.