“Hi, I’m Brianna, and I’m a student at…”
I find myself stopping short when I think of how would I introduce myself to someone. That label of “student” I wore for so long is now gone, and has yet to be replaced by anything significant enough worth mentioning. It’s been nearly a week since I graduated, and I have done very little; perhaps nothing at all of noteworthy status. The bed I sit on as I type this is the same one I slept in as a child, while some of the decorations on my walls hail from high school days. It is hard to feel as though graduation was a step forward; dwelling-wise, I have gone backward.
My calendar for the rest of this week and much of next is quite empty. I find myself coming up with errands to run, and intentionally splitting them up into smaller trips on separate days, just for some sort of reason to leave the house each day. It hasn’t even been a full week of nothing-ness and already I am doing this. Restless.
In a week and a half I’m leaving for a trip to London and Edinburgh. Approximately half of my time is filled with thoughts of this, of what to pack and how things will look and will the person I sit next to on the plane be nice and will I be able to concentrate on what anyone is actually saying when I’m lost in the sound of their fascinating accents and which shoes should I wear on the plane? These thoughts are helpful, in a way. Anticipation is exciting.
But my trip will inevitably end. Less than a week after I return I’ll start my twenty hour a week temp job, but still…so many hours in a week to fill. Yet I hate thinking like that–that I’m simply trying to fill the hours of each day, instead of really enjoying what I’m doing. Restless.
I don’t really want to sit still all the time, yet at the same time I find myself feeling that doing something is too much work. Restless.
Restless, restless, restless.
Til next time…