Margaret Thatcher and Coding

In between reading about Margaret Thatcher’s privatization and the history of the Stasi (I’m doing a History of International Relations MSc…), I’m attempting to read Capital by John Lanchester. I say ‘attempting’ because it’s usually a matter of managing 2 pages in bed before I fall asleep with the book on my face. (It is a good book though!) In one of my recent 2 page sessions, the character Patrick – who has come to live in London involuntarily from abroad – described his dislike for ‘the big smoke’ as basically being manifested in the fact that Londoners always appear busy; always in a rush and doing too many things at once. 

It really struck a chord with me the next day, when I found myself running to the tube, texting, and looking through my diary. All while walking in the rain. Carrying an umbrella.

But on a serious note... I’m currently combining my full-time Masters with a job, and a full-time coding course. Too much?! Are we as people now only satisfied if we’re constantly ‘busy’ and ‘stressed’ and rushing around? When I stopped to have a think about this, I figured that yes, I am a bit rushed at times and yes, it does mean that I have eaten my dinner on the tube. (As far as I know, I luckily escaped the bizarre and creepy Women Who Eat on Tubes Facebook group!) But at the same time I’m quite happy to juggle various things. I definitely would rather learn too much than too little, and realistically, I’m just going to get older and crankier… If now isn’t a good time to learn to code and meet some fantastically motivated people to steal some motivation from, then when the hell is? 

At the end of the day, as long as I can still find the time to have a catch up with my buddies over a glass of wine, read 2 pages of Capital in bed, or simply sit in a Soho bar to people watch, then I think I’m doing just fine! 

Or another way of putting it:

Childhood v Adulthood

In continuing with yesterday's little post, I thought I'd compare the pro's of childhood with those of adulthood...

The pros of being a child:

1. You can do the most random and outrageous things and it’s (mostly) socially acceptable, sometimes even cute! If you want to have a little scream in Tescos and throw some apples on the floor then go right ahead.
2. Role playing is insane. Any career is a possibility. One day I was a mother, with an army of BabyBorn children that all needed my love and devotion. The next day I was a significantly successful musical super star in the West End. And the next I was Titania, Queen of the Fairies...and naturally ma petite soeur was my elfin slave.
3. Not only do I think that children’s imaginations are amazing, but also their approach on things. It’s usually so straight forward and direct. Things that us ‘adults’ simply overlook. (Brutal simplicity of thought Mr Saatchi? Employ some children.) For example: I was listening to a literary podcast where children around the ages of 5-7 years old were asked whether they would like to be Harry Potter and why. While most boys my age would probably have said yes and waved some pretend magic wand through the air shouting EXPECTO PATRONUM, the little boy on the podcast simply said “No. Because Harry is always having to do something or be something. He is never just normal Harry and hangs out with his friends.” I had never even considered that. (I would still want to be Ginny.)
4. Dating and interacting with the other sex. Oh my gosh, why did I never take advantage of how simple this is as a child?? “Hello, my name’s Lisa. Would you like to share my Smarties?” Nowadays an awkward lock of the eyes in a crowded bar could lead to an awkward “Would you like a drink?” followed by an awkward “So what do you do?”
5. The biggest worry I had was probably along the lines of whether Hattie had more Beanie Babies than me. Phone bill? Que?

The pros of being an adult:

1. I’ve spent 16 years in education to date. I’d like to say I have learnt a lot. Obviously I can’t remember exactly what I learnt in Year 4 in the Summer Term, (I think we did a pond project and I caught some tadpoles) but I’m confident that having overcome childhood I certainly have both more general and expertise knowledge than I did as a child.
2. Although I no longer have the liberty of choosing a new ‘career’ on a daily basis, I do have the opportunity to actually practice a career. QUOTE: if you find a job you like you’ll never work a day in your life and all that jazz. Having said that, if Titania offered a grad scheme I’d be on it like a shot.
3. Decisions. Yes I can still consult the parents on various matters, but at the end of the day it’s down to me to decide. Right from what time I go to bed, to where and when I’m going on holiday this summer. (Am I invited on the family holiday?!)
4. I am a lot less restricted in daily life! I can go on theme park rides for those over 1.4 meters, I can take out films labelled 18 and I can drive, drink and buy lottery tickets. 
5. I can do the most random and outrageous things. Ok so I may not be able to have a little scream in Tescos and throw some apples on the floor without being sent to a psychologist, but I could literally right this second get on a tube, go to Heathrow and get on a flight to Cuba. Why Cuba? Not sure.

Twenty Something

I’m 21 (so I can legally drink everywhere. Yes, everywhere in the whole entire world. But I still can’t hire a mini-van), I have a degree and I have moved out. I’ve done various internships which have all been eye opening, interesting and beneficial in completely different ways. I think I’m ready to admit to myself that yes, Lisa, I am now in the real world. Work, salary, bills and post-work drinks are all a reality.

Wham slam bam thank you ma’am. I guess you could say that I’ve been given free reign on life.

But I still see myself in a somewhat sense of quasi-adulthood / quasi-childhood, a kind of halfway house... Rather than photos in gilded frames I have fairy lights on my wall (dorm room chic), some of my clothes are currently on the floor and this weekend I’m going ‘home’ to visit the fam where I still have my bedroom. I like that. Hell I neeeeed that! If the ceiling were to fall on my head, I could potentially scramble home, tail between my legs and hide under the duvet. Although not literally advisable, it’s nice to know that the option is theoretically still there.

Currently, blogs, TV programmes and the general media are full of the term ‘twenty somethings’ to describe my age and generation; sometimes positively, sometimes negatively. Although I am a wee bit sick of it, it is quite nice. It seems socially acceptable to be in this self-labelled limbo.

The ‘twenty something’ blanket gives me a bit of time to sloooowly ease myself into being an adult. It psychologically gives me a bit of time to fully grow into my adult persona. Ideal. If someone were to say to me today: “you are now 100% an adult” I think I’d be pretty scared. In my books, ‘adults’ don’t make mistakes on tax forms, let the bins overflow or forget to pay bills. Obviously one should avoid these things at any stage, but perhaps a ‘twenty something’ is expected to still make a few mistakes. I like to call it learning by doing.

So despite the fact that I am ready to face the big, bad world and throw myself into the deep end of the rat-race, I think I’ll happily hold onto that ‘twenty something’ label for a bit. A little psychological teddy bear for the road.