Handing out resumes is not the summer that all teen romantic comedies sold me on. Admittedly it was just the one today, yet the whole experience was so disheartening that I have retreated back into the sanctity of my flat to watch pure unadulterated shit like Pretty Little Liars, to try to put myself into a coma.
When you think about it, the whole concept of selling yourself on paper, grovelling to a potential employer is in itself a system that diminishes personal liberties and one that totally defeats the point of the American dream. While that doesn’t really count being in, and from the UK, surely the only way to fulfil that dream is to be self-employed and fully self-reliant, not having to wait on the charity of an unapproachable restaurateur. It reinforces the title of this entire blog: The View from Down Here, quite literally having to look up to the sky and fully expect to get crapped on.
Obviously, that’s fine, it’s an acceptable fact of life that has to happen in a functional society based on the marvel of consumer capitalism where there can only be a finite number of open positions. In a perfect world, humanity would exist in a society written by Gene Roddenberry: no money, no borders and everyone overacts to everything, championed by a perfectly groomed William Shatner. In all honesty, it would be agreeable that both ends of the political spectrum would come to the conclusion that the idea is science fiction for a reason.
Long gone are the days where we were all kids and the summers were for hide and seek and all-inclusive holidays with the family. At the time I found them intolerable, at age fourteen coming to the realisation that to truly enjoy the world you had to compromise on your own unreachable standards of what’s enjoyable and to accept your mother’s. Now I, like perhaps many across the world, miss those days when hide and seek was a fun game to play, unlike now when it’s all about searching for cash for another takeaway. I have a chilli squid problem, sue me.