Essentially the absolute worst part of going off to live on one's own is getting sick. Without parents to tell you what's probably wrong with you, or to bring you everything you want and make sure you're comfy, etc. it just gets old fast. Also spooky because it's not like you've memorized one of those family medicine books that tells you how to diagnose common illnesses. It's fun for the day when you call in sick and watch DVDs or play videogames all day, but pretty soon you want your vim and vigor back, so you can have fun with your friends again. JAZ bought/toasted me strudel today, which was delicious - so bein' sick? Not all bad. Thank you!
At any rate, the importance of this exercise was in part to encourage me to put into writing what I would otherwise have filed away as "maybe, but needs polish", because then I post next to nothing and I think I lose an aspect of rawness and relevance if I deliberate too much. But it's also about the habit of posting daily, and so there's a certain value to going through the motions even if I don't have something particularly insightful to write down every single time.
This is also a bit of a rough time of year because everyone going back to university is getting into the swing of things, talking about the classes they're excited for, professors they like or don't like...and I'm still chugging along with my year-round courses at DropOut College. I guess next September I might be settling in to a real job, but then I guess I'm trading depression for terror. Job security, saving for educating kids of my own (which will hopefully go better than this), saving for retirement...all of these adult worries that I'm not sure I'm ready for. Or maybe the world just looks bleaker when I'm sick, who knows? At least once I'm better the 15-odd-degree weather is essentially perfect for biking.
Biking is one of the things I've really been enjoying this year. It's something I'm pretty good at, and it's something that I'm content to work on getting better at. It's such a surprise because growing up I acquired the most profound distaste for physical achievement. Or maybe just competition. I don't even know why I care about my cycling ability, but I do, and it gives me hope that I'm not useless at all kinds of work, just most of them. Somewhere out there, there's a job for me that I won't hate. Somewhere.