To Baulk

I realised something today. I’m terrified of responsibility. The holidays have been pretty okay for me! Working in the evenings, doing other stuff during the day, seeing Bethwyn whenever possible. I’ve been busier than I anticipated, but it’s been good busy, happy busy, purposeful relaxation busy. I’ve passed a few games, read a book, went down to Pemberton, that sort of thing. But today, my happy holidays were starkly interrupted by a pressing reality: I’m going on placement in a few weeks. I’ll be working for Centrelink, a government organisation, where I will be a public servant and represent the government. I will be working an actual job, not just as casual "Fill the shelves, don’t worry about anything else, take it easy, have some money" Coles job, a job where I will actually be dealing with people’s lives, sums of money, you know… important stuff like that.

And I don’t think I’m ready for it. I seem to enjoy my holidays because I don’t have to do anything, so long as I can pass the hours and get enough money to survive. It’s not much of an existence, but I’m tempted just to abandon a career, work for a shopping centre doing some crappy job without any accountability or responsibility and live off that meagre pittance so I don’t have to worry about being professional. I might have the skills, deep down, to be a social worker, but I don’t want any of the responsibility that comes with it. I don’t want to have to go out and buy new clothes, or to pack lunches for work, or to only have a half hour lunch break because there’s so much to do… Just leave me to play Phantom Hourglass in my pyjamas and I’ll be set, thanks.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s