So? Most people hate their jobs. That's why they're called jobs.
David NichollsStichwörter: humor
I get this occasionally, the need to define myself as a something-or-other, and at various times in my life I have wondered if I´m a Goth, a homosexual, a Jew, a Catholic or a manic-depressive, wheter I am adopted, or have a hole in my heart, or possess the ability to move objects with the power of my mind, and have always, mostly regretfully, come to conclusion that I´m none of the above. The fact is I´m actually not ANYTHING.
David NichollsThe last year had been a series of wrong turns, bad choices, abandoned projects. There was the all-girl band in which she had played bass, variously called Throat, Slaughterhouse Six and Bad Biscuit, which had been unable to decide on a name, let alone a musical direction. There was the alternative club night that no-one had gone to, the abandoned first novel, the abandoned second novel, several miserable summer jobs selling cashmere and tartan to tourists. At her very, very lowest ebb she had taken a course in Circus Skills until it transpired that she had none. Trapeze was not the solution.
The much-advertised Second Summer of Love had been one of melancholy and lost momentum. Even her beloved Edinburgh had started to bore and depress her. Living in a her University town felt like staying on at a party that everyone else had left, and so in October she had given up the flat in Rankellior Street and moved back to her parents for a long, fraught, wet winter of recriminations and slammed doors and afternoon TV in a house that now seemed impossibly small.
Stichwörter: life-lessons
Food is the new rock and roll.
David NichollsI think you're scared of being happy, Emma. I think you think that the natural way of things is for your life to be grim and grey and dour and to hate your job, hate where you live, not to have success or money or God forbid a boyfriend (an a quick discersion here - that whole self deprecating thing about being unattractive is getting pretty boring I can tell you.) In fact I'll go further and say that I think you actually get a kick out of being disappointed and under-achieving, because it's easier, isn't it? Failure and unhappiness is easier because you can make a joke out of it.
David NichollsStichwörter: one-day-david-nicholls
Emma's mid-twenties had brought a second adolescence even more self-absorbed and doom-laden than the first one. 'Why don't you just come home, sweetheart?' her mum had said on the phone last night, using her quavering, concerned voice, as if her daughter had been abducted. 'Your room's still here. There's jobs at Debenhams' - and for the first time she had been tempted.
Once, she thought she could conquer London. She had imagined a whirl of literary salons, political engagement, larky parties, bittersweet romances conducted on Thames embankments. She had intended to form a band, make short films, write novels, but two years on slim volume of verse was no fatter, and nothing really good had happened to her since she'd been baton-charged at Poll Tax Riots.
Stichwörter: one-day-david-nicholls
What was it, she wondered, this need to brandish his shiny new metropolitan life at her? As soon as she'd met him at the arrivals gate on his return from Thailand, lithe and brown and shaven-headed, she knew that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to him, too little had happened to her. Even so this would be the third girlfriend, lover, whatever, that she had met in the last nine months, Dexter presenting them up to her like a dog with a fat pigeon in his mouth. Was it some kind of some sick revenge for something? Because she got a better degree than him? Didn't he know what this was doing to her, sat at table nine with their groins jammed in each other's faces?
David NichollsStichwörter: one-day-david-nicholls
She was talking too loud now, shouting almost, and a long silence followed. Why was she being like this? He was only trying to help. In what way did he benefit from this friendship? He should get up and walk away, that’s what he should do. They turned to look at each other at the same time.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No, I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“Rattling on like a….mad cow. I’m sorry, I’m tired, bad day, and I’m sorry for being…so boring.”
“You’re not that boring.”
“I am, Dex. God, I swear, I bore myself.”
“Well you don’t bore me.” He took her hand in his. “You couldd never bore me. You’re one in a million, Em.”
“I’m not even one in three.”
He kicked her foot with his. “Em?”
“What?”
“Just take it, will you? Just shut up and take it.
Stichwörter: one-day-david-nicholls
I am not up to this. I am not capable. I thought I would be, but I'm not. Some part of me is missing, and I cannot do this.
David NichollsStichwörter: one-day-david-nicholls
I think...." She lifts her head from his shoulder. "I think that you have it in you to be a fine young man. Exceptional even. I have always thought that. Mothers are supposed to, aren't they? I don't think you're there yet. Not yet. I think you've got some way to go. That's all."
"I see."
"You mustn't take this badly, but sometimes...." She takes his hands in hers, rubbing the palm of it with her thumb. "Sometimes I worry that you're not very nice anymore."
They sit there for a while until eventually he says, "There's nothing I can say to that."
"There's nothing that you have to say."
"Are you angry with me?"
"A little. But then I'm angry with pretty much everyone these days. Everyone who isn't sick.
Stichwörter: one-day-david-nicholls
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