The work involves waking up at 7AM and then lifting and delivering boxes and parcels to various departments around the hospital. The positive of the job though is that my Dad lets me go home every day at Midday.
On Tuesday, I drove home with my window down blasting out Capital FM on the car's now ancient stereo. I drove through New Malden High Street and I noticed so many people that I vaguely recognised from Secondary school.
You know the type. The people who you constantly passed in hallways but you never spoke to, people who were a couple of years above or below you.
I drove past a few of these people and something sad, disappointing and worrying struck me. They all looked really glum.
I don't mean that they looked like those very unhappy dogs and had black clouds literally hanging over their heads. They looked world-weary, tired and lacking in hope. They cast the image of people who were stuck in a rut. They looked exactly how I felt at 7AM when I realised that I had five hours of hard-graft in front of me.
Three thoughts quickly sprung to mind.
One, were they glum because they were stuck in dead-end jobs with little prospects?
Two, did they want to travel the world yet found themselves stuck in the same town for the foreseeable future?
Three, did they not understand YOLO?
These thoughts, whilst potentially condescending, re-enforced my new attitude of working as hard as possible to fulfil my ambitions, my desire to not be stuck in my home town for the rest of my life and my attempting to try to follow the law of YOLO a bit more fruitfully.
