So, it happened. I finished university.
I actually had my last class at the end of March. I then spent a month working on the last essays of my undergraduate degree, once again selecting some wild wild examples to apply Deleuze and Foucault too, and accidentally making hummus stains in books. And then I was freed.
Although what I feel is not an overpowering sense of freedom, nor is it really relief. The truth is, I loved education. I still do. I like the comfort of it, the routine of it. Over the past year I have learnt a lot about myself; one of the most important things being that my comfort zone keeps me sane, grounded. I like education because it makes clear to you what your days are going to be about, what your objective is, and how to get there. It is easy to visualise. There are people answering your questions. There are people asking you questions, too, but you get to answer them. It's a well-oiled machine, and while it evolves (I wouldn't say the third year of my undergrad was quite as comfortable as preschool), its rules never change, or barely.
It is too bad it's taken me twenty years to figure this out (by the way, I turned twenty), because during this time I've unfortunately taken on a real penchant for being out of my comfort zone. WHY and HOW I do not understand. Why would I enjoy and pursue a state of being that makes me feel, to a certain extent, bad? I wish I knew. The mysteries of the mind, eh?
Some choices had to be made in the past months. At the beginning of the year I was set on keeping to the comfortable. I did a little bit of 'window shopping', picked myself a postgraduate course, and off I went. And yet, quickly I had doubts. The routine of education, it is heavy. It might be comforting, but in a way that leaves you a little bit numb at the end.
I love myself a precise schedule, but there's nothing more exhilarating than change. There's nothing more overwhelming than testing your limits and knowing they are a bit further than you thought. There is nothing more powerful than facing your fears and kicking them hard in the butt. Hopefully this is what I'm off to do. (Recruiters, I am actually not violent and will not kick anyone in the butt, I swear.)
So, here goes. Back in 2007, I had this one great idea. It was pretty simple: when I'd graduate, I'd go study in London. That was the plan. I did that. Now I have no plan.* What next?
* Well I do have a plan, mainly, to be given money in exchange for labour in the world of media, preferably food and drink oriented. If you want to become part of the plan, please check out what I can do and hire me. Thank you.