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I am ridiculously jealous of my baby brother. And i know when i say baby brother it sounds like a little bouncing bundle of puke and poop that women seem to coo over for some random reason; but my little brother is actually 19 years old, six foot odd tall, a rugby player, a bit of a slag and obviously someone im jealous of. Now i could be jealous because he got the perfectly curled blonde hair and good looks of the family where i got the short, fat arse and flat as pancake mousy brown hair genes. But no those are not the reasons i am jealous, the reason i am jealous is because he is 3 years younger than me and seems to have a life so fun, so adventurous and so sorted that it actually makes me sick with envy whenever i think about it.

He is currently oh so very far away in the land of fosters, cork hats and kangaroos living his dream of travelling for three years before he comes home and has to be a grown up. Even now, when he is doing his allotted farm work for the aussies he still looks like his life is far more sorted than mine.

He spends his days drinking, adventuring and meeting new people – i often imagine him having Jack Sparrow type adventures only with fosters and a cork hat rather than rum and a pirate’s hat. I know this probably seems a very odd image but just think about it, sat wherever you are right now doing whatever you are doing; imagine this annoyingly tanned lancashire lad sat on a beautifully sunny australian beach somewhere having a bbq and drinking enough beer to make even chasing a kangaroo look like an interesting way to spend the night. Aren’t you jealous? And if you aren’t you are probably lying.

Like most of my fellow school mates i worked my butt of in crappy part time jobs saving the pennies for university, and i thoroughly enjoyed my three years of poverty drinking and deadlines. But now that its all over, now i have come out the other end with a relatively decent degree, and im back home in the cold and rain and perpetual boredom that is my home town; my university experience is starting to feel like it was all one big con. Where is my fantastic career that i can easily walk straight into? My weekends off at the pub with my grown up friends? Or my house with the expensive duvet set and a dog that insists on covering it in mud?

In short I am jealous of my baby brother. Yes he is young and he is living his dream, much like i thought i was doing at university. But at the end of those three years he will come home to wonderful memories, work experience, friends from around the world and the confidence in himself as he did exactly as he always wanted. Whilst i sit at home knocking back the vodka trawling the online job sites and whining down the phone to my friends who are in the same situation about where the hell did it all go wrong?

Even here he looks like he is having more fun =(

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