Sunday 26 October 2014

The Difficulty of Now

At the risk of being misunderstood, this is a post about the struggles of right now. Don't get me wrong; I love being back in the UK. I love fourth year. I love my flat, and my part-time job, and the fact a very large percentage of my friends are all in the same city as me (after living in the Forest, this is a novelty I will never again take for granted). I appreciate that the workload is demanding, but the motivation this provides me with is the most motivation I have had for at least 3 years (thanks 'A' Levels, you were mean). But what I really hate about now is the not-now: The future. 

'The future is in your hands' (I feel like people say this a lot. Or maybe just my dad).
My future is literally in my hands. If I ain't typing applications, all I have in front of me, literally and metaphorically, is a white blank page (see Mumford and Sons for some good mood music). I am a particularly worry-able person. For the first time in my life, I have no idea where I will be in a year, or even where I should be in a year.

Last week, I visited a careers workshop for my school, the school of  Languages, Literatures and Cultures. I expected to be bombarded with places to go to find a job, and useful application strategies. Instead, I drew a spider diagram of what I enjoy and who I admire. I'm not being scathing; I see how this can help people to maybe see where they want to go. For me, it just said the obvious: I like writing, and I like being around people I like. This I knew already. I desired a more narrowed-down answer of where I can go in order to achieve this. And what is yet more frustrating, is that right now, I am expected to be doing a lot of writing, and I have enough time to spend with people I like. I like the now, so why should I be spending it thinking about the next? 

The answer? The next terrifies me, and in order to make the future a little less terrifying, I should think about the next. I'm applying for graduate schemes. I am scouring the internet for internships. I become confused about salaries and start dates and deadlines on a daily basis. But I have a feeling that if my new future does not comprise either writing or friends, this time next year, I will still be complaining about the now; only with less time to change it.



The now: beer, sausages and friends

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