Thankyou, but God, no! Promotion just means more stress and hassle. Thing is, I work 3 days a week and live in a council property, I personally think I'm living the dream and I'm incredibly lucky. I have a lot of spare time to read books, and watch black and white films, and forage, and grow vegetables and all other sorts of lovely things, or things I think are lovely at least.

I can walk out of work and stop thinking about it immediately. Whereas my friend works five days a week, and is depressed and stressed, and now has put deposit on a house that she needs to stay in her stressy job to afford, and if she gets long term sick for any reason she's fucked. I think she relieves her frustration at her bad situation by trying to lord it over me.

I just see her life, and a lot of others as some kind of endless treadmill that never ends. Got to get a house. Got to go abroad twice a year. Got to get a car. Got to have a kid. Got to get married. Got to, got to. And an endless parade of Instagram and Facebook photos to let everyone know they're doing it, otherwise what would be the point? And then they're so fucking miserable. I try not to stress out about a lot of things but this makes me genuinely sad.

As Charlie Brooker once said: "Balls to aspiration, it's a tosser's mirage"