On February 17th, my friend Leila passed away, after a hard-fought battle with cancer. Despite the distance between us since we went through grade nine together, this has absolutely crushed me. So, I’m going to take a note out of Zoe‘s playbook, and tell you about her.
So that was 28. Tomorrow I’m 29. And I feel all of twelve. Maybe thirteen.
That’s probably why so many people have crises about their age: they never feel what they really are. I’ve managed to elude conventional adulthood for so long, and now I feel the time to girl-up and be a grown-up is upon me.
No wonder I need a medication adjustment
So here’s to 29. May you bring good things.
I have anxiety and depression; and when I have bad periods, time seems to disintegrate. I can spend weeks doing little more than reading and basic functionally. The weird thing is that I don’t actually notice I’m doing it; it takes me weeks to realise it and everyone around me is ‘…duh.’
So, my uni break consisted of watching Archer (definitely been added to my favourites list), doing a little fic writing, and generally over-thinking my entire life. So, not exactly the relaxing break I was hoping for. Now I’m back at uni, and I’m trying to piece myself back into a functioning human being. I mean, I’ve started a sort-of bullet journal for my honours year at uni (let’s ignore the fact I graduate next year. It scares the living hell out of me), and I got a super cute haircut. No, seriously, I had my fringe cut and I was so worried, but I actually kind of love it.
Now I am going to go crawl into my bed, which is currently obscured by a giant pile of clean washing, and sleep with the hope that when I wake up tomorrow it won’t be Monday and I won’t have a 10am lecture.