Every time I send a gargantuan message to my three best friends from Cambridge, I get so excited for a response that I am incapable of thinking of anything else.
Been feeling a little deflated lately because (1) I miss these ladies like hell (2) I miss Cam like hell and (3) I am really and truly not ready to accept that I am not going back to school in the fall. May was such a rush that I was happy to get graduation over with, but……. shit. I miss my professors and classes and the Senior House and three other Lit and Theory majors at William Jewell like hell too. At least I’m still in Kansas City and close to some of my other favorite people in the world who are still at Jewell… Still, though, I’m taking the year off of school working 8-5 and I already feel like I’m failing to push myself and work toward anything. I’m stagnant, in limbo, and it’s as if one of my greatest sources of anxiety is alive and well.
The fear is an exaggerated life of its own, though, and the truth is that I am working toward grad school, freelance writing and my own creative projects. These moods always pass. I just have to remind myself that to get back to the UK (or EU) and J & J & L, I’ve gotta go back to school and work hard, which isn’t remaining stagnant at all.
I once interviewed a friend about the blog he kept whilst he was abroad, and he said that he stopped writing because it returning to it would be as if he was trying to relive or hold on to the past. And of course there’s the whole high-school-curriculum-Gatsby moral (not to say I don’t like Gatsby—I’m just sayin’, the book is way more nuanced than any high school class could cover), and the Doctor Who lessons of accepting change. I’m not stuck in the past. I’m using my memories to fuel my goals and push me forward and explore and create, and I think that’s pretty healthy.