(It’s inevitable, isn’t it? As soon as I say “I’m on hiatus,” I think of something to write)
I think what’s got me in a bit of a zone is the fact that suddenly, things are real. I don’t know why it hasn’t felt like that until just recently; maybe I’m finally getting out of that age range where you’re expected to goof off, and hitting 22 suddenly sounds very much like “Ok, you’re supposed to be grown up now. Get on with it.”
Maybe it’s the fact that I’m in London and suddenly I’ve realised that, wait, I’m actually here for 7 whole months. Not just two like last time, most of which was spent larking about. Maybe it’s my flatmates – they’re all much, much older, and while they are students, it’s something they’ve come back to.
Maybe it’s that others are talking of careers, and homes, and lifetime partners, and I’m not thinking of any of that, because… well because I’m not sure that I should. That’s Scary Stuff, don’t you know? The grad program I’m on is a nice feather-bed to land on on my way into the workplace, because for the first year at least, it certainly felt like I was just out of uni but not really, and it was all a bit of a lark. And then London happened, or at least kicked off, and it still felt like it was just going to another semester.
But then I got here, and found a place to live, and suddenly… it’s all too real.
Whatever the reason, it’s like I’m finally realising I’m out of uni, and way out of school. The work I do day-to-day affects other people in their day-to-day world, even if just slightly. In some cases, there are people praising my work, and that drives an intense sense of satisfaction. In others, there are those who criticise and point out how it gets in their way. And all the time I’m watching them thinking “hang on, you use this for real?“, as if I’d always considered that this was merely an exercise like at uni, and I was being trained for the “real thing”. But now I’m here, I’m called on as a subject expert, having worked on it for a year and a half (and still knowing all too little).
It’s not too early for a quarter-life crisis, is it? When the hell did life become real?!