The work was easy, it paid well, and people I worked with were dead on (with the exception of the HR manager). So I did all those things a responsible adult is supposed to do: I started a savings account, I started taking driving lessons, and I got myself a passport.
Six months into this job I had had enough of writing regular expressions, and started to conceive an excuse for resigning; I had even started applying for other jobs. It was as if the Boss-man had read my mind, the week I had grown discontent the boss-man had decided that he got enough usefulness out of me and let me go. The last month is always the hardest; I did almost no work.
So this put me in an awkward spot, I still hadn't passed my driving test and the recession was making IT positions a rarity. Thank you, mister Job seeker's allowance, I was able to survive on that while I decided what to do next. Dad suggested I should do a Masters, he'd pay for it; how could I refuse that? So applied and they accepted. So that give me two months with nothing to do before the semester started.
Driving Test. All those months of lesson had to prove themselves. But no one ever passes the first time, this is what I kept hearing for years. So I got into the car with little expectations. The instructor was curious about my Masters, I talked myself up of course (I'm a hard working student, don't you know?). After only 40 minutes we came back to the test centre and he issued me a pass. It was the proudest day of my life. I told him I could have hugged him!
In late October I dropped out of my masters, it wasn't the right course for me. And to celebrate I went to Amsterdam; the first time I've left this country without my parents. I wish I could say how wonderful it was, but honestly it was okay. Next time I go somewhere that prioritises drink and culture, and not (straight) sex and drugs. Oh well, it was one of those life experiences that I hear so much about.
And that takes us up to the present.