It is with dark thoughts that I consider my future. I was a geek at school, and for the latter years of my teenage-hood I considered University to be a deeply exciting prospect.

Hard work? Count me in! What better than a five year investment in one’s future?

I feel I’ve reverted a little. At eighteen years of age, I’m beginning to think like I should have done for the last 5 years. I want to have fun. Not just, ‘let’s go to the fairground’ sort of fun. I want to live it. I want to travel. I want to spend my time without the worries of work, bills, relationship complications. I want to be a kid again.

It’s a horrible feeling, getting older. I’m not even that old for goodness’ sake! But, for the sad reason that I spent my younger life thinking of my future, of a career, of a marriage, now that I’m getting closer the appeal is wafer thin. In the space of a few months I’ve gone from sensible old man with acne and a breaking voice, to immature, reckless kid with a beard and an electricity-bill.

If you could do anything with your life, what would you do? This is all relative of course; I used to think I wanted a set income. This comes from a shaky financial childhood, but it lead me to believe that no matter what I did, as long as I ‘could pay the bills without thinking about it’ (my exact words as a fourteen year old), I would be happy.

Ha. If only it were that simple.

I started to do Architecture at University. It was something I knew I could manage, and after seven long years (Hard work? Huge commitment? That’s for me!) I would have a wonderful job with a better income. I dislike the course one month in. I have a passion for travel, for adventure, for culture, for FUN. So it begs the question: how can I be Indiana Jones for a living?

I am very privileged. I had good grades, and I live in Scotland (perhaps the best place to enjoy tertiary education). With hundred of universities and career choices at my disposal, perhaps I should climb off my high horse and quit complaining.

I would only ask – before I jump down from my pedantic throne – what, in this life, would make you ultimately happy? And then I ask, are you doing it?

Questions that I feel no young eighteen year old should even be considering, but what better time to answer them?

What would make me happy? Travel, safety, and an Xbox. The Xbox will come. The travel, well, I’ll be damned if I don’t live up to my dreams. And the safety? Why, the enjoyment in all life’s indulgences would be diminished without a little shred of risk…