I have always been terrible at maths. Have you ever seen the film Friends with Benefits? Ok, well the male lead character in that is teased mercilessly throughout the movie for his inability to count AT ALL. He even has a copy of Everyday Mathematics for Dummies in his house. Most people see that and feel like this:
However, when I see him and the way his friends and family laugh at him, I feel like this:
I can barely count to ten. How I managed to achieve a B for my Maths GCSE is beyond me. If somebody has to calculate anything, I try to fade into the background so they don’t ask me to participate in the exercise. This is how I feel:
Times tables are even worse. This is how I feel when I think of times tables:
I like to think I am intelligent in other ways; such as my endless capacity to remember random trivia about literature, films and history. This makes me smart in my own special way. And so, I chose to study a Bachelor of Arts at university. I wanted to spend 3 years studying something I enjoyed so I majored in English Literature and minored in Modern European History. I clearly didn’t think of this when I applied to university though:
And now when parents remind me of the fact that I am unqualified to do anything of value or monetary security, I feel like this:
My father always maintained that I should have followed my brother and studied Engineering. Or accounting. Yeah Dad, that’s a great idea suggesting two industries that are entirely defined by numbers and analytical thinking.
Now I’m considering returning to University because my BA of Arts is basically useless and I’m making a pittance. I just have no idea what to study. I wrote a list of all the things I would consider and they included Law, Filmmaking, PR, Advertising, Digital Media, Research, Curating, Criminal Psychology, Journalism and Art Directing to name a few. How the hell I’m supposed to decide on my future and still have my applications in by the 31st of October (which is the cut off date) is beyond me.