indeterminancy

everything and nothing is happening all at once. superficially, it's nothing. uni is effectively over, prac complete, no job offers and no idea of what i'll be doing and where i'll be going next. just a lot of nothing and indeterminacy.

auntie jan is seemingly unchanged, dying slowly like every other respectable organism on earth. i'm still alone with the same rejections i've been hoarding for the past month or so. nothing is occuring: no change, no prospects, nothing.

but beyond the superficial, my life seems uncontrollably malleable. with the indeterminate comes the tantalising knowledge that at any moment my life could be altered forever. the next phone call, the next email, the next handshake; who knows where i could go, what i could do, who i could become?

having already experienced several periods of re-invention, i'm itching for the chance to see who lamb 7.0 will be. this is the exciting part, the part before the chaos and the fear. i've been in the same spot for almost six years now. i'm feeling it, i'm itchy, i need to get out of here.

i need new blood. that's not to say that i don't love my friends. in fact, i would argue that i love them entirely too much. i've already gone through my cache of male friends and completely struck out. that seemed to be too easy though, since i decided to go back for a second go at rejection. clearly i have only two options: either get some new male friends, or move. i think option b sounds easier.

and then there's auntie jan. in my haste and excitement for life to finally 'start', i'm leaving behind my last chance to spend time with her. knowing that i'll be taking bereavement leave before i even land a job is not the most enticing prospect, but i also know that if i pass up the opportunity to get out, i'll never forgive myself. and neither would she.

i feel like i'm in the eye of the storm. with university, prac and heartbreak behind me, and employment, relocation and heartbreak of a different kind ahead, this lull is both exhilarating and terrifying. i want to talk about it, i want to predict and commiserate and guess at what the future might hold. i want to mourn friends who i won't see for years and family who i may never see again.

i look back at where i was this time last year. i was terrified that i would spend the rest of my life with someone who didn't challenge me intellectually, treated me as a maid/guide dog and had less ambition than a kitchen sponge. the biggest prospect for change in my life was the transition from undergraduate to postgraduate studies, and the closest we'd come to family tragedy was one of dad's man-flu's. my greatest moral concern was that i harboured a secret crush; my greatest ethical challenge - borrowing and sharing academic references.

now i know that i can be alone - it's not desirable, but achievable. i'm making the radical transition from student to teacher, a role accompanied by ethical concerns longer than my arm. one of my loved ones is terminal, and somehow my secret crush has since become an enemy, a friend, competition and a confidant all in one. some friendships have been complicated, others strengthened, some almost completely dissolved.

i think the crux of it all is this: we are all changeable. where we will be in another year's time is a mystery, and who we will be by then is a greater mystery still. regardless, it has been a pleasure.