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Monday 19 January 2015

Cos Astronomy

Ah the return of university. Also known as: the return of me sleeping through all my 9am classes. Missed the first class of the term? Start as I mean to go on.

Although, excitement excitement prepare yourselves, I have an appointment with the nurse in an hour. She is hopefully going to sort out all my shitty hormones so I can stop being a shitty hormonal wreck. Slain's Dinosaur has taken to calling me Dr Jekyll/Miss Hyde. Admittedly, it must take him a while to write out on each text but it's fairly true. I have been horrible this past month. Fingers crossed it'll all get sorted out now.

In other news... LB returns.

I know, I know, don't all yell at me at once. This is different. You know those really gross things that are all hipster-y and Pinterest-y and have been known to make me cry if I'm feeling particularly low? The ones that are all like, do you think of me when you look at the stars and known I'm thinking of you cos astronomy. Wait, I'll find some.



You know? That kind of bullshit.


Well little daisychains, this is all relevant to LB because it happened in a less lame way. Basically, I was going to message him. Not in a 'come hither and let's get married and have lots of sex and babies' way, calm your pants. No, I genuinely wanted his opinion on something. I've been worried recently what I'm doing at uni and what I'm generally doing with my life and I wanted to ask him if he'd ever felt like that. Then I might have felt better because if he had, obviously he'd gotten past it and will now become an actual Lawyer Boy.

So after I went and made myself a cup of tea (essential messaging companion. Actually, tea is an essential life companion), I went on the Facebooks and lo and behold, I had a message awaiting me. From LB. From 20 minutes before.

Come on! That's weird, right? That's weird. And what's more, it was a message simply asking if I remembered the time I messaged him about the otter king at 2am. I MEAN....!!! How bored must he have been?!! He must have had absolutely nothing else to do. Isn't that ridiculous? Is that ridiculous? What's the deal with that?

Anyway, that amused me and I've managed to make a blog post about it. 10 points to Hufflepuff.

Shit, I really have to go and do general life things. I could always leave this till later and make it all proper nice looking and make sure it makes sense but... Nah.

But actually, I want your opinions and advice. Like actually genuinely. Has anyone been to uni and had this moment? How did you get over it? What are you doing with your life now? TELL ME EVERYTHING.


2 comments:

  1. I didn't go back to school until I was in my late 20's. I gave it at 19 and within two weeks I'd sold all my books for cigarette money. It was a waste...so I went in the Army. Anyway, when I went back to school, I was older, married, working...it seemed like an advantage. I was focused far more concerned about letting my wife down that I had ever been about my parents.

    I did well...got a graduate degree in history from an ivy league school...and yet here I am now, ten years later, selling chicken wings. I enjoy selling chicken wings, and cookies and all that but, the point is, I'm not sure I've ever felt like I knew what I was doing...where I was going.

    Obviously there are those who know exactly what they want to do...or at least they seem to....never deviating from the plan. I'm not one of those people and I can live with it. All I really want to be is a good husband and father. Of course, providing is part of that...so, I sell the chicken wings...and have a good time doing it.

    What you're feeling is inevitable...college promotes this idea that you're setting your life on a sure and certain course. It's panic inducing but it's a false pressure. You got plenty of time to sort things out...or burn it all down and come back again.

    I just had a birthday (and should you go by my slab...you too are included among those being shamed for not getting me a present)...42 and I'm still waiting for my thoughts to be grown up, somehow different. I have memories of my Daddy at my age...even younger. He thoughts must have been more serious than mine...surely they were.

    Yeah probably not.



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    Replies
    1. I've decided that the best thing to do is hide under a big jumper with a hot water bottle (our flat is bloody freezing), tea and Eat Pray Love. Just until I figure things out a bit more. Or really, until 9am tomorrow when my flatmate drags me to our English lecture. She's in a productive mood.

      And happy birthday - I never get cool cakes like that.

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