ThereвЂ™s nothing like a little utter despondency to help you forget that you despise your occupation and I began to look forward with a far greater sense of purpose. I swiftly became exasperated with my condition but was thrown a bone when full-scale depression came along and took the baton for the next leg. Work-related stress was about as much fun as squeezing the primed pimple on the crease below your nostril and just as likely to end in tears. Nervous breakdowns вЂ“ well ainвЂ™t they a toe punt in the squishy parts. Actually it seemed more interested in taking initially, but wrote me an IOU and swore blind it would pay me back eventually. Something had to give and give it bloody well did. Where was the passion? Where was the excitement? Where could I possibly knock one out without being brought up on a disciplinary? So many racing questions and diddly squat in the way of answers. Instead I sat around shelling brain cells by the cluster and hanging out for that elusive last Friday of the month and the all-important bank transfer that accompanied it. I was supposed to be out there on the front lines, assisting troubled teenagers from areas of deprivation in finding their own paths through the split-pea soup that is puberty. That was what my job wound up boiling down to, piles of mundane paperwork and precious little of what I had been employed to do.

Granted I could read and write without too much fuss, but there was no great sense of exhilaration to be gleaned from writing up risk assessments and filling in session evaluations according to strict protocol. The crazy thing is that I had become completely oblivious to my literacy skills. There had to be something else I was missing and I never gave up hope of one day finding out and hopefully helping others understand their own plight also. I swiftly discounted this theory as I knew all about the anal probe and it was still a tight squeeze fitting just the one finger up my bottom so that couldnвЂ™t be it. Perhaps I had been abducted by aliens and reprogrammed without my prior knowledge. Yet I couldnвЂ™t help but notice a nagging feeling that I was living someone elseвЂ™s life entirely. It was almost as though IвЂ™d been cryogenically frozen and I put it down to being the way of the world and soldiered on with my blissful ignorance. I was a little boy lost but stuck inside a manвЂ™s body and still no nearer to receiving closure on my adolescence. Masturbation may be a rather delightful pastime but I was fairly assured that it wouldnвЂ™t put food on my table so I had to think of an alternative and fast.ДЄnyhoots, the twenties and thirties are reserved for wasting your time with jobs you loathe, people that couldnвЂ™t disinterest you more, and trying to convince yourself that youвЂ™re somebody youвЂ™re clearly not. How in blazes are we supposed to have any sort of game plan devised by that point when weвЂ™ve only just gotten the hang of washing behind our ears? ItвЂ™s ludicrous I tell you and I vaguely remember my eyes glazing over and time drawing to a virtual standstill as my opposite number awaited my response. Scary ainвЂ™t it? YouвЂ™re darn tooting it is, I recall a little bronzed nugget revealing its tan lines to my underwear the very moment this poser was pitched as, apart from my scheduled Monday monkey spank, I hadnвЂ™t the faintest idea what the future held and could do little but shrug my shoulders. IвЂ™m speaking of around the time of your graduation, when you were kindly informed that you were about to be shat out into the big, bad world and left to fend for yourself. Try not to overshoot Grueheads as IвЂ™m not talking about seventh grade and the whole вЂњwhen I grow up I want to be race car driverвЂќ deal. I request that you all cast your minds back to the first time you were asked what you intended to do with your future. Forty-two long years and I reckon I might have just sussed it. I think IвЂ™m getting the hang of this yвЂ™know.

The Chemical Brothers featuring Richard AshcroftВ вЂњThe TestвЂќ The Chemical BrothersВ вЂњDig Your Own HoleвЂќ

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