Wait - I'm still a fresher for now!

Is the City for everyone?

I started university with only a vague idea of what I wanted to do when I leave. Okay, maybe a strong idea of what I want to do – but a vague idea of what I would actually end up doing. For me, it was all about the university experience and broadening my mind, instead of for the career prospects my degree would give me. I was looking forward to a relatively carefree three years, in which I’d concentrate on having fun, doing a degree I enjoy, and developing as a person.

But it seems my fellow freshers are having other ideas.

I have a friend at another university who has her life all planned out: degree, law conversion and then a high-paying job. She’s set. Another friend, here at York, admitted to me the other day that his life plan was (as an Economics student) to go to the City, burn himself out with the fast living, but earn enough to retire by the time he was thirty.

For an English student, the search for graduate employment is going to be especially hard. I, for one, only want to write with my life, but I know that being successful at it is going to take years and years of hard work – and possibly very little money. It’s hard to pursue your dreams, and earn enough to live on. Personally, I can’t imagine anything worse than “selling my soul” to the big cooperations, working in an office all day, having to wear a suit and carry a briefcase: however much money it brings.

Some fellow English students, however, don’t seem to share my principles. One boy I know, writes poetry, is an amazing artist, does English with me… and wants exactly what I couldn’t stand. He actively wants it. To this end, he’s already started thinking properly about his future. He seems to always be attending careers fairs and applying for internships right, left and centre.

It’s making me feel very lazy, and also wrong for believing what I do.

I feel like I should be planning for my future. With an incredibly unpredictable world of work out there, I feel I should have some sort of plan, even a black-up plan, so I have something to live on – if I don’t manage to fulfil my dreams of best-selling authorship.

But I don’t want to let go of my ideals. It seems silly in this day and age to cling to a practically impossible dream, but to let it go would mean certain defeat. I don’t want to work hard for a high-paying job if I won’t enjoy the work. Neither do I want to settle for working somewhere like a call centre, to earn an all right living while I wait for my dreams to come true.

So I think I’m going to have to resign myself to a rather degraded few years after university. I’m going to pursue my dreams and write anything and everything people will pay me for and attempt to breach the literary marketplace in any way possible. I want to know that even if I fail, at least I will have tried the hardest I could have.

But most of all, I’m not going to think about it just yet.

Incidentally, my Economics friend did admit the other night that he’s now having second thoughts. Apparently, he wants to do something useful with his life, other than sell out to the City.

I think he means something fulfilling.

I think he means he doesn’t know anymore.

And that’s the way I think it should be. For now, at least.

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