I’m fleeing my life as I know it. I’ve packed up my belongings and I’m moving across the state to live by the beach. I’m chasing a life that I’ve never had before, a life of freedom, a life of excitement, a life that doesn’t conform to what society deems as appropriate.
I know, for anyone who’s reading this that doesn’t already know me, that this paints a picture of me that I’m reckless and abandoning my responsibilities. I want to tell you right now, that I am neither of these things.
When I decided to pack up my life and travel a fair distance in my car, the first thing I did was book myself in for a car service. Hawthorn, the inner city suburb that I grew up in has a great mechanic that I’ve been to my entire adult life, and he’s the man I trust to help me start my new life. He’s even set me up with a mechanic friend of his that works near where I’ll be moving to, he’s fantastic.
So now that I’ve hopefully proven that I’m responsible, I’ll prove that I’ve got a plan for my new life. I’m going to go to the local tafe and learn to become a mechanic. I’m quite a bit older than the other blokes that will be getting their qualifications, because I’ve obviously only just chosen a new life for myself.
I know that by going to tafe it means I’ll have to source myself an apprenticeship and get all my hours and pass my exams before I can be a fully qualified mechanic. I think that would mean that I’d have to be willing to commute back to the city each day for work (the irony, I know), but at least I’d get to go back home to my fantastic beach lifestyle at the end of the day. I think I’m going to speak to my good friend about becoming a mechanic. If all goes well, in a few years I could be a mechanic. Hawthorn is lucky to have such a dedicated team of car specialists.
I’d be lucky to be an apprentice.