But never mind.
I had this moment this arvo when i realised, unlike other years where the end of a academic year (while cause for celebration) is always structured with the promise of more structure the next year. Not so now. My entire life is stretching out before me, it's structure waiting to be formed...by me.
That's an intimidating prospect, especially when your plans for the first year are usually expressed like: "Um, yeh, might ride my bike a bit."
I'm gonna need more than that, and I already have some plans in the works. I have an essay i want to write that's been in my head for a long time now. Once i manage to write it, I'm going to try and get it published by someone (if i think it's good enough which, lets face it, is unlikely).
But there it is: as de rigeur as it is, my life is stretching out before my eyes with (while not limitless potential) enough freedom to both scare and excite the crap out of me, like no other concept.