Angst

Had a conversation with the a friend today who remarked in a rather conversational manner how all of us were so interchangeable. Well you know who the "us" my friend is referring to don't you? Well, its us -the ones who want to take up travel journalism, or work with children, or take up designing and give up our high paying jobs. To be wealthy and to do be good at whatever is making you wealthy just does not cut it. The us- the ones who are jaded, who laugh when somebody says that a long chat later they discovered they were in love, the ones who also moan about how we will never find that love we laugh at precisely because we laugh at it. The ones who just have too much work but are too numbed by it for it to be enjoyable. The ones whose idea of socialization means a drink and certain kind of music and maybe certain kinds of movies. The us who cannot have any other activities besides our jobs in our life- not even families, and are constantly vaguely unhappy knowing there is something more out there.

Well I think its all bollocks. Well not ALL bollocks but some bollocks. I think that this angst/discontent is a sort of social visiting card. Something that you hand out to other people you meet that says - hi i am a young working professional, working at[insert law firm name/financial institution name/consulting firm name], and (in most cases) live by myself in [insert big city] and (in some cases- ok few cases) lets do each other or (as in most other cases) lets go get a drink and hang out.

I agree most of the set may in fact be sad or discontent or angsty or frustrated - but not this homogeneously angsty or discontent. I am sure beneath the required amount of angst to classify one's social set there are genuinely happy or sad or excited or childish or mature people who are uniquely unhappy or discontent

To quote Big Feet (who in turn quoted Tolstoy) : every sad story is different. every happy story is the same