I've made my bed, I'll lie on it.

That's the way I like summing up my fleeting university experience. I remember there used to be three types of professors. The commonest and, perhaps, most annoying one was that who would dictate the class notes, a kind of individual that takes undergraduates for medieval monks. I could copy quite quickly, even if my notes weren't the most aesthetically pleasing ones, but, as I was always unsure about what I was jotting down, I would find my feet coming in the photocopy shop around the corner every now and then to ask for the previous year's notes. I would, then, compare both bundles to correct and complete my own.

The second type of professor was the lazy one: a life-tenured public employee that couldn't bother less about preparing a class. He'd rather hand out a bundle of papers and improvise: ramble about the alleged topic of the day for an hour without even using the blackboard, explaining key concepts or proposing practical exercises. Noam Chomsky is the public figure that best fits this type: he's a wonderful linguist yet a terrible communicator, incapable of catching the audience's attention for longer than one minute. No matter how much Linguistics interests you. Listening to him ramble is boring to tears. 

Then, I would arrive home, read the handout on my own and make my own notes. I had wasted my time by attending that stupid class.

Finally, I remember the one that would display advanced techniques: a PowerPoint presentation. She would shout: 'do not copy! Just pay attention!' And that's what I would do: to pay attention. Then, she would email the presentation to us lot, but it was so simple that I couldn't use it to prepare for my exams. I was unsure about understanding the key concepts correctly, as some time had gone by since that class, and lacked the precise words to express myself appropriately. Therefore, I used to get down to the faculty's library, look for the definitions among the books and make my own notes again.

I claim full credit for my education.

From Pixabay, free of copyright.

I give up my translation career.

Ever since I got my degree in English, I've worked as a translator, as I had spent some optional credits in undergraduate Translation modules. I would translate for charities for free while teaching English and French privately. As soon as I realised I could do it, I signed up as a translator at the tax office; but clients wouldn't contact me as frequently as I would like them to. Later on, I got a job as an in-company English teacher and combined both activities, as well as private tuition, for a long time. 

And that's pretty much the way I've got along in recent years.

Working as a freelance translator or a proofreader is extremely challenging in Spain. It's an unsteady job and clients tend to bargain the rates. I can do it as long as I get a stable income from private tuition, in-company teaching or occupational training courses, as paying public insurance is extremely expensive for freelancers in this country.

I've given in to the seduction of liberal ideas in recent months, but something within me refused to accept that left-wingers were those that steal money from the working class and give it to public workers, creating, thus, a terrible dependency upon the privileged few that provide public services.

Well, it's true.

Working conditions for Spanish freelancers are expected to worsen dramatically in 2019 so as to make us give up working freelance and apply for a proper job, as they're promising a €900 salary —regardless of whether small and medium companies can pay it or not—, or prepare for competitive public examinations. 

Of course, they aren't making decisions based on the economy but rather ideology.

Taking into account how unstable it is to translate freelance, I won't be able to pay public insurance by teaching privately while waiting for translation projects. So, I've resolved to give up my translation career and bet on teaching. I won't work for small English academies, though, as they pay little money (informally). That's crystal-clear for me.

As long as the illiterate moron that currently rules Spain, Pedro Sánchez, Ph.D. (😂), is in office, I won't pay more than €300 a month for my work (regardless of my monthly earnings).

The Kingdom of Spain abuses freelancers and family businesses against human rights.

It's over.

From Pixabay. Free of copyright.