I don't know how it happened, but today I woke up and I was an adult.
I shouldn't have been too surprised – it happened the day before, and the day before that, and so on. It's been happening for a while, in fact, and yet it's still causing me issues. The thing is, I don't know what it actually means.
|This kid seems to have it figured out, though.|
I mean, what does an adult actually do? What's supposed to happen? Is there a membership card, perhaps, that got lost in the post? If there's an instruction booklet, I haven't received mine, and I'd like to make my displeasure known (see, an adult would know what sort of numbers to call and council employees to harangue about that).
Then, a few weeks ago, another strange thing happened.
A few weeks ago, I spent some time in London, and within half an hour of stepping from the train I'd decided this was the place for me. I wanted to spend weekends in the Tate, evenings in pricey bohemian bars, to be obnoxious when tourists stood on the wrong side of the Tube escalators. I wanted to live in London, I wanted to do London things, to think London thoughts.
Which would be no small feat for someone who turned 18 and half expected to start sprouting in a Mogwai-like fashion every time he showered.
So, on the one hand I have these lofty aspirations and arguably more hope than sense; on the other, I may not have any idea about things like checking accounts and tax returns, but I do have a reason to learn.
What's more, every week I'll be taking you through that process. Every Friday I'll walk you through the steps I've taken towards a London-based life. Each week I'll explain - for example - the steps a person can take towards employment; I'll discuss my decisions and I'll talk about how they panned out. Hopefully you'll be able to take something away from my experiences – even if it's how not to go about things.
Why a blog, though? Besides needless self-aggrandisement, that is.
You'll just have to come back next Friday to find out.