Thinking...

My parents do not think very highly of my intelligence.

Admittedly, I haven't given them much reason to disprove this opinion, but that's not the point...surely the 'I-Trust-My-Child-To-Be-Sensible instinct outweights the I-Am-The-Parent-And-Thus-Am-Always-Right mentality?

Or...not.

Today I had a job interview. Again. For a music teaching position. (Again). Only this time, they pretty much offered me a twelve-month contract after fifteen minutes of chatting.

Which was kind of strange, considering the other music school made me jump through several hoops to even get to the bloody audition part...but this seems okay, it's teaching children in primary schools. The only problem is getting around my university timetable...which is going to be interesting. Very interesting.

Anyhow, I rang Dad before going to work to tell him the good news.

He said, "You didn't sign the contract did you? Did you even read it?" etc, acting like I was nine instead of nineteen...before I cracked it and finally pointed out, "YOU KNOW I DIDN'T SUFFER THROUGH ONE YEAR OF CONTRACT LAW TO BE TOLD THAT I NEED TO READ A BLOODY CONTRACT."

I even remember the bloody precedent- L'Estrange v Graucob, although this knowledge is about as useful as the little random facts that come printed on the back of Libra sanitary pads.

Secondly...my grand plan, as I explained to my interviewer, is to take a year off in 2009, and do music. Just music. Ideally, I'd like to teach for a year, complete my A.Mus.A, learn voice and violin, and travel to Greece. And possibly South America. And possibly Alaska.

My mother does not like this idea. In fact, she violently disapproves. She thinks I am being insensible, and she pointed out that time is money, and I could be earning money in that one year blah blah blah...she tried to use the opinion of one of my siblings as back-up for her argument, except I'm perfectly aware that that particular sibling thinks of the world in seven-minute billings...so that really had no weight.

Oddly enough, my father gave me some spiel about superannuation when I first floated this plan, but then shrugged it off, saying, "It's your life..." which would have been quite nice of him if he hadn't added, "...you can muck it up if you want."

Without sounding like a petulant five-year old, I wish I were financially independent...because then no one could tell me what to do. But since I can't afford to move out, no matter how much I wish I had my own space, I am somewhat restricted by certain limitations.

But never mind.

All I want for Christmas is one week off. I have a 9 a.m- 7 p.m shift tomorrow and I think I am just going to retire to the back room with the biggest vat of coffee I can find, and drown my misery in sweet-smelling caffeine.

Mmm.

Coffee...

Edit, post-evil-shift: I bought one extremely large cappuccino during my lunch break but it didn't make me even a smidgen more alert...when I woefully pointed this out to my colleague, he went and bought me an additional cup in order to wake me up. This didn't work either. Which makes me wonder...AM I BECOMING DESENSITISED TO THE MIRACULOUS RESTORATIVE POWERS OF COFFEE?!!!