So This is Where it Starts... ah F**k

So this is where it starts.... ah fuck

My name's Josh I'm twenty-one and I've decided to keep a blog because I suppose I'm a millennial and this is what you're meant to do. Apparently going down to the pub to complain is no longer an option because no-one goes down to the pub anymore, and even if you wanted to you couldn't because the council has shut your pub down because nobody goes to it anymore. When Joseph Heller wrote catch-22 I'm really not sure this is what he has in mind.

I'm currently sitting in my room in the beautiful knife-crime quarter of Southampton. To be honest I couldn't be happier right now. The cupboards are stocked full of tins of Heinz and Super Noodles. The staple diet for everyone who claims they are a 'busy intellectual'. I am not but it's cheap and scurvy would be one of the cooler illnesses to suddenly get, chlamydia is so 2009. But I digress, I am happy right now because I am a student. A group of people constantly told that they are the future but at the same time being told this future is pretty bleak mate because you didn't apply for an internship In Derby or Scarborough that is vaguely related to the field you didn't want to get into.

You didn't bother to make savvy connections at business fairs; and the last time you spoke to anyone in the finance industry was when you got that phone call from your bank manager asking if you wanted to extend your overdraft. While I'm here I might as well tell you, for the love of all that is holy do not extend your overdraft. Yes for a few days you can start eating meat that didn't come frozen in a tray with pasta or off the back of that van next to the Wetherspoons. However in two months time you are going to be right back where you started and five hundred pounds worse off for it. I'm beginning to think that's what must have happened to Lehman Brothers. They probably kept nipping down the Natwest every few minutes to make sure they had enough in their accounts for tonight's champagne bar and the next thing you know they're dealing with an interest rate that would make an East London loan shark blush.

So I'm getting ready to dive into a now flailing job market. It's not like the old days either when people like Harold McMillan would tell stories about how if he couldn't find work he'd hop on his bike and go looking in the next town. Well I'm afraid I've got bad news squire, EVERYONE'S town is low on work, you'll probably end up commuting to Sunderland every morning, you'll have to get up so early you probably won't have finished yesterday's shift. All you're contributing to is the sale of Lycra and ridiculous looking cycle helmets, you berk. So yes the job front is well and truly knackered and in three weeks I'm going to be ripped from the cosy womb that is further education and thrust into a world where going into a job interview and saying you have a degree is the same as saying I I once watched an episode of the apprentice so I'm pretty sure I can run this shit.

But for this current moment in time I am happy, I started this blog to take an honest look at how a mediocre student, with a questionable work ethic, with all the career trajectory of a bloke selling 'Jim'll Fix It' t-shirts can survive in England and more importantly the real world. Strap in it's going to be a bumpy if not depressing ride.