A Weird Week

I'm going to be entirely honest - there is no point to this post. It's an amalgamation of loads of things I wrote in my iPhone notes pages this week. 

On Tuesday I woke up with two job rejections in my inbox. On Wednesday I battled a snowstorm to review a children's show in the most adorable theatre. On Thursday I warmed up with Indian food and played Cluedo. On Friday I woke up feeling like warm honey was trickling through my veins as I realised the nightmare I'd been having wasn't real. On Saturday I woke up with a pretty severe hangover, a pulled hamstring and no memory of a good two hours of my night. 

I sat at my desk so many times this week looking out at the snow. It's been snow worthy of the Grinch, big fluffy flakes falling so slowly you can't help but wonder how many hours they've travelled from cloud factories to find a new home on sodden concrete. I have a feeling that in 20 years I'll be able to remember a lot of little things about this week, simply because the circumstances are so memorable and bizarre. Snow in March and no lectures because of university strikes.

With strikes planned up until the last teaching week of term, my final countdown to the end of university life seems to have been cut brutally short. I'm not dreading leaving university, I'm excited and ready for what comes next. But when I showed my mum around a few weekends ago, I realised that this place is the first home that's been just mine. People visit and I know where to go and I say 'ooh we could go here for dinner' and 'it's quicker to walk this way'. I went for breakfast this week and I slipped on the snow on the way there, and got warm by the fire as someone on one table shouted happy birthday over our heads to another. I feel at home here and I don't want to leave somewhere that I feel simultaneously independent and looked after. I feel all grown-up. So this week I watched it snow and wondered where I'll be the next time my surroundings are painted white. 

Like I said, I'm so excited and ready for whatever's coming after university. But I'm also sad about leaving my gorgeous room, and this campus that looks like Hogwarts, and the place I have breakfast so often that I nearly cried when I found out one of the waitresses was pregnant. But most of all, I'm so sad to leave the people I've met, who make me laugh and argue with me and make me laugh some more, and who seem to forgive me every time I fuck up, which is a disproportionately high number of times considering how short of a time they've known me. I came here after having already 'failed' once, terrified of not making friends, and reassuring myself that all I came here for was a degree, and any friends would be a bonus. I'm so lucky to have been given that bonus too.

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