I'm torn about posting in this thread; as an eidetic, I've got plenty to say on the subject, but my experiences are often so far out of the norm that they wouldn't necessarily be relateable, and at any rate, would be more of an essay than a post. So I'll limit myself to one observation, one from-experience comparison, and one quote.
First off, people don't remember most of what happens to them. You remember college for the fun, for the freedom, for wild drinking and the fun stories. You don't remember the homework, the deadlines, the sleeplessness, the headaches, the other myriad hassles that plague the whole experience. Oh, you probably hold on to a few; the heinousness of the massive assignment given over winter break, the time Jimmy puked out the window directly on top of the teacher who gave out the massive assignment over winter break and didn't have to buy another drink until he graduated, and so on, but most of it fades. People ten years older than you are looking back on when they were your age, in a similar situation, and thinking 'Man, I didn't know how good I had it! No kids, no mortgage payments...'. And the people ten years past them look back and say something similar. I'm not saying that your situation will never improve, simply that the grass wasn't nearly as green as you remember.
Next, a comparison. When I was twenty-four, I got a job as a truck driver. In the US, at least, getting the Commercial Driver's License you need to drive a truck is pretty easy. Actually being a truck driver is hard, in a hundred ways you would expect and a thousand ways you wouldn't. You know how with some professions, you're told "it's not a job, it's a lifestyle"? With truck driving, it's not a job, it's a life. You drive. That's pretty much it. The ease of getting in, coupled with the fact that truck drivers are essentially the linchpin of the entire domestic economy (seriously- if you're in the US, and you're not a subsistence farmer, your job doesn't exist in a doable state without truck drivers; show them some respect), meant there was never a lack of volunteers. As a result, most of the major national carriers feel free to treat their employees like disposable resources (there are exceptions, but those companies are a LOT more discriminating). Mine certainly did; after lying to me, cheating me, stealing from me, and almost getting me arrested, I realized I couldn't stand working like this. What did I do? I contacted headquarters and told them I quit. Then I went and got another job.
When I was nine, I entered fourth grade. The woman who taught my class was a cruel, power-mad bully, reveling in the fact that none of her charges could do anything to oppose her; the same mentality one might find in a professional puppy-kicker. One day, I realized I couldn't stand working like this. What did I do? I turned to my parents- and was told "that's just the way the world works". I turned to my teacher's superiors- and was told "yes, she's strict, but that's just the way the world works". I turned to my classmates- and was given bug-eyed stares for daring to even suggest not cowering in terror. So I turned to myself, and began what gradually turned from a complaint of "this woman is out of line; she should rein herself in a bit" into an all-out ideological war of wills between me and the educational system as a whole- and by extension, society as a whole. Present relationships and future opportunities exploded one after another as I made clear, time and again, that I would not be cowed into obedience. Screaming arguments with my parents that went on for hours and only ended with someone storming off crying became a weekly, then almost-daily occurrence. I'd spend my days verbally butting heads with teachers and realizing the future held nothing for me but more of the same; and my nights lying in bed sleepless, holding a boning knife to my throat, trying to think of a reason why not and coming up with only one: spite. Eight years of this, until the system finally realized it couldn't beat me and was in danger of taking a hit to its reputation, and yielded.
Compare that with making a phone call and saying "I quit".
I think you'll see why I say that adulthood, though not without stupidities of its own, is far better than childhood. And now to close things off, a quote from mister George Bernard Shaw: "We do not stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing."
First off, people don't remember most of what happens to them. You remember college for the fun, for the freedom, for wild drinking and the fun stories. You don't remember the homework, the deadlines, the sleeplessness, the headaches, the other myriad hassles that plague the whole experience. Oh, you probably hold on to a few; the heinousness of the massive assignment given over winter break, the time Jimmy puked out the window directly on top of the teacher who gave out the massive assignment over winter break and didn't have to buy another drink until he graduated, and so on, but most of it fades. People ten years older than you are looking back on when they were your age, in a similar situation, and thinking 'Man, I didn't know how good I had it! No kids, no mortgage payments...'. And the people ten years past them look back and say something similar. I'm not saying that your situation will never improve, simply that the grass wasn't nearly as green as you remember.
Next, a comparison. When I was twenty-four, I got a job as a truck driver. In the US, at least, getting the Commercial Driver's License you need to drive a truck is pretty easy. Actually being a truck driver is hard, in a hundred ways you would expect and a thousand ways you wouldn't. You know how with some professions, you're told "it's not a job, it's a lifestyle"? With truck driving, it's not a job, it's a life. You drive. That's pretty much it. The ease of getting in, coupled with the fact that truck drivers are essentially the linchpin of the entire domestic economy (seriously- if you're in the US, and you're not a subsistence farmer, your job doesn't exist in a doable state without truck drivers; show them some respect), meant there was never a lack of volunteers. As a result, most of the major national carriers feel free to treat their employees like disposable resources (there are exceptions, but those companies are a LOT more discriminating). Mine certainly did; after lying to me, cheating me, stealing from me, and almost getting me arrested, I realized I couldn't stand working like this. What did I do? I contacted headquarters and told them I quit. Then I went and got another job.
When I was nine, I entered fourth grade. The woman who taught my class was a cruel, power-mad bully, reveling in the fact that none of her charges could do anything to oppose her; the same mentality one might find in a professional puppy-kicker. One day, I realized I couldn't stand working like this. What did I do? I turned to my parents- and was told "that's just the way the world works". I turned to my teacher's superiors- and was told "yes, she's strict, but that's just the way the world works". I turned to my classmates- and was given bug-eyed stares for daring to even suggest not cowering in terror. So I turned to myself, and began what gradually turned from a complaint of "this woman is out of line; she should rein herself in a bit" into an all-out ideological war of wills between me and the educational system as a whole- and by extension, society as a whole. Present relationships and future opportunities exploded one after another as I made clear, time and again, that I would not be cowed into obedience. Screaming arguments with my parents that went on for hours and only ended with someone storming off crying became a weekly, then almost-daily occurrence. I'd spend my days verbally butting heads with teachers and realizing the future held nothing for me but more of the same; and my nights lying in bed sleepless, holding a boning knife to my throat, trying to think of a reason why not and coming up with only one: spite. Eight years of this, until the system finally realized it couldn't beat me and was in danger of taking a hit to its reputation, and yielded.
Compare that with making a phone call and saying "I quit".
I think you'll see why I say that adulthood, though not without stupidities of its own, is far better than childhood. And now to close things off, a quote from mister George Bernard Shaw: "We do not stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing."
