Coming back is hard to do
It's been a weird week. Lovely evenings of domestic bliss and laughter filled with days of running around on errands. I've found work, back whoring myself as a freelance commercial writer, but hey it will pay the bills. It's only while someone is away on vacation, but it's a start.
Catching up with people has been joyous, but it's still all very strange. When I got off at the train station to go in to work yesterday the rain was pouring down heavily... and the two large advertisements alongside the platform only added to my woes. One features a large photograph of the Grand Canal of Venice... happy memories of summer days wandering around the city with Roz. The other was worse still. The Qantas childrens choir, lined up in their little white shirts along Westminster Bridge, with the lights of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament sparkling in the background. Ugh. Yes kids, I still call Australia home, but as I am trudging off through the rain to write about motoring and boating I don't need such a potent reminder that those heady days of jetting around Europe during the glorious summer where the rays only tanned instead of burning are over. Finished. Back to the daily grind. Talk about cruel irony... of all the advertisements in Sydney to have those two at the station where I have to get off for work!
And then there was uni. One of the subjects I am doing here is almost the same as a subject I have already done. The class is way too big and it's the same stuff over again... not exactly inspiring. I still haven't been to the other two classes, but the whole 6 hours of class straight on a Monday thing doesn't sound particularly appealing. Especially since investigative journalism is apparently an insane amount of hard work... and political theory involves a lot of reading.
Then the added stresses of preparing for graduation are looming, I'm already having to start applying for cadetships... trying to decide what lengths I am willing to go for to get a job is stressful. Would I move to the Queensland outback or Alice Springs? Maybe... it could be an adventure. Would I move to Wangaratta (a commutable distance from my hometown). No, I don't think so. That would just be boring. I have to get my CV in order and do all that and it just fills one with a gaping sense of inadequacy seeing how little one has to show for 2.5 years at university. Particularly after seeing some of the amazing stuff produced by some of the go-getters in my course in London.
Argh. At least the house is a happy happy house. And it's nice to see everyone again... even though I sometimes space out when things digress in to conversation about parties and happenings that I missed.
I think that's the scariest part of it all... how little things have really changed, how much I have changed, and deciding how much change I want to happen at the end of the year. Ugh.
Catching up with people has been joyous, but it's still all very strange. When I got off at the train station to go in to work yesterday the rain was pouring down heavily... and the two large advertisements alongside the platform only added to my woes. One features a large photograph of the Grand Canal of Venice... happy memories of summer days wandering around the city with Roz. The other was worse still. The Qantas childrens choir, lined up in their little white shirts along Westminster Bridge, with the lights of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament sparkling in the background. Ugh. Yes kids, I still call Australia home, but as I am trudging off through the rain to write about motoring and boating I don't need such a potent reminder that those heady days of jetting around Europe during the glorious summer where the rays only tanned instead of burning are over. Finished. Back to the daily grind. Talk about cruel irony... of all the advertisements in Sydney to have those two at the station where I have to get off for work!
And then there was uni. One of the subjects I am doing here is almost the same as a subject I have already done. The class is way too big and it's the same stuff over again... not exactly inspiring. I still haven't been to the other two classes, but the whole 6 hours of class straight on a Monday thing doesn't sound particularly appealing. Especially since investigative journalism is apparently an insane amount of hard work... and political theory involves a lot of reading.
Then the added stresses of preparing for graduation are looming, I'm already having to start applying for cadetships... trying to decide what lengths I am willing to go for to get a job is stressful. Would I move to the Queensland outback or Alice Springs? Maybe... it could be an adventure. Would I move to Wangaratta (a commutable distance from my hometown). No, I don't think so. That would just be boring. I have to get my CV in order and do all that and it just fills one with a gaping sense of inadequacy seeing how little one has to show for 2.5 years at university. Particularly after seeing some of the amazing stuff produced by some of the go-getters in my course in London.
Argh. At least the house is a happy happy house. And it's nice to see everyone again... even though I sometimes space out when things digress in to conversation about parties and happenings that I missed.
I think that's the scariest part of it all... how little things have really changed, how much I have changed, and deciding how much change I want to happen at the end of the year. Ugh.
posted by Ashlee at 4:07:00 pm
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