Well I had a great day. I spent it with a friend and her daughter, she gave me an amazing birthday present (a lace scarf knitted by herself, no less), then we had tiramisu which she bought at Marks, we toasted my PhD, my precarious future and tra la la, it was evening. As I was driving home, home to further celebrations of ‘new tidings’, see below, a swoosh of gratitude swept over me.
Only two days ago I felt a little displaced. This is the first September since... since... since ever, that I do not have school and/or work and/or uni to go back to. The first time since I was six years old I am telling you, and for someone so keen on the academic year-rhythms as I am, the realisation that for the first time in my life I do not have to work at anything came as a shock. A shock of identity-searching proportions, a shock of subjectivising proportions. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, I can fly in whatever direction I want to and yet I feel small and almost unable to move, fearful to take the leap into the unknown.
So as all of this was going on, there comes Britt with the scarf (and some tea and a soap and a card and the cake). By the time I arrived home and twirled in my room in the scarf and threw shapes and tried different brooches on it I felt completely and utterly elated. I need to stop worrying, stop trying to plan the future. I am just so grateful for everything and should enjoy it right now. And so I am, with a bomb of calories. Yay!