Having basically started my life again from scratch last month, I’ve found myself with a lot more time for the things I enjoy doing. Namely, strumming my guitar hoping it wont lead to any angry death threats from ear assaulted neighbours, creating ultimate mess in my room by exposing the contents of my craft box to my chaotic hands, and as of right this moment, blogging.
In the space of two weeks I’ve managed to detach myself from my ultimately messy life as things have sort of just fallen into place quite perfectly. The repercussions for this humble blog of mine is a total change in tone. Yes, you all who know me and know of my inability to outgrow my teenage angst, I warn you I may express positive emotions and thoughts. Try not to die of shock. Disclaimer done.
So, I guess a quick outline… I am now at Warwick university doing a post grad in Social Work. Which makes this blog read a bit like a story with the most predictable ending. I’d like to quickly interject here to say that being a ‘postgrad’ is like being a nun. Not because of the lack of rock and roll lifestyle (ok, so partly because of that), but more for the fact it carries a certain status, followed by the ability to evoke a common reaction from people. “Hello my name is Fi I’m a postgrad” usually follows with a look of disbelief/respect/interest from the person on the receiving end of my inadvertently juicy confession. So I’m a postgrad and now I’m actually doing a real degree, with real hours, real reading and real prospects (here is where I get killed by my fellow undergraduate psychology students, but hey, I’m a postgrad and I will enjoy the mandatory cockiness such as that we always expressed at people doing their A-Levels “oh my gorsh, as if they could dare to complain that their a-levels are hard, don’t they know what us poor undergraduate lazy sods have to go through”).
For anyone who may read this and be interested: I BLOODY LOVE MY LIFE. Not to boast but I’ve never been one to majorly ‘enjoy’ life. I think ‘endure’ was more the word I’d use. But now I am quite literally having the time of my life. My course is everything I’ve ever wanted to dedicate my time to doing, the people on my course are friendly, like minded to myself, and all quite frankly really interesting people. My room in halls is adequate, and like living in luxury after the evils of Tapton in my first year at Sheffield. I have found people who can tolerate my slightly strange nature enough to actually spend time with me, we received our bursaries this week which basically makes me rich (in student terms), I’ve refounded my organizational side and thus I am almost a normal person again instead of being an airheaded student residing in squalor which pretty much sums my former undergraduate self. Everything just feels very in control and ’neat’ and I feel less like I’m riding on the edge of the wave just waiting to drown in the shit surrounding me. That said, I’m almost scared to admit I’m happy for fear of the inevitable downturn of events but I think one of the things I’ve learnt this past summer is that not allowing yourself to be happy for fear of being unhappy again is the stupidest thing basically ever.
So, this is it really. I won’t go on with a million anecdotes from the past 2 weeks, there have been a few special moments (in both senses of the word) but things that probably wouldn’t really interest anyone except my mum.
Happy Fi :)