Kiwi Crocus (cranky__crocus) wrote,
Kiwi Crocus

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Oh! I kept wondering why 4 February felt so important. I knew there was something my mind was trying to remember.

It's Mrs. Osborne's birthday! My old English teacher. 8th grade. Holy crow, six years ago. I still remember her fondly. I love English and literature. I miss it.

Too early to send something (it isn't even her birthday in that time zone) so I'll have to send something later today. I'll send something through Sonja, too, since she works at the school and I can't always get to Mrs. O through email.

It dawned on me that my mother and I are in similar spots. Transitioning. Her with her post-Momness and me with my post-studentness. I mean, we're both in the ends of those phases right now and looking at what we're going to do next.

I love ecology. I love sitting in lectures, learning about ecology. Hearing things. Researching things. I hate running experiments, writing academic writing, writing reports, doing busy work, taking tests, taking exams. I love revising.

There's a lot I don't like about Uni. I'm still glad to be here, of course, and to be living my dream - being in England, having these friends, creating my own communities, growing into myself, learning about things I love. I know I need to get a degree and I'm sure I'll be relieved when I have it. The word 'dissertation' and the phrase 'next year' can throw me into a panicked tizzy, but I'm sure I'll get through them because I always do.

I'm still waiting for the what-comes-after. Living poor off spaghetti-ohs and dreams. Groaning about student payments. Missing random college moments and being nostalgic, then kicking myself in the gut and snapping 'yeah, but do you remember THIS?' Listening to Avenue Q and singing along to "How Do I Go Back to College" with great empathy. Charity shop clothing. Too many beans and too much bread. Travel. Sitting in coffee shops with enough money to buy one cup of coffee and making it last hours just to sit writing.

I think what I really need to do is start writing again, to get me through all this. Pick up Writing Down the Bones more often. I apologise for the two long updates back-to-back. Wasn't intended. Guess with my voice not working in real life, my fingers are prepared to make up for the silence.
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