It begins again, but surprisingly, I don’t feel the need to say “too soon”.
I still emerge from the torturous number 10 bus to/from NUS feeling like Rip Van Winkle. I still wander around campus feeling translucent and disconnected, as if hoping my real university will come one day to rescue me and take me home.
But none of it is feeling as bad as it did. My Tuesday evening class in Corporate Finance Law actually looks like it will be interesting. Admittedly, during this morning’s excruciatingly boring Evidence lecture I was attached to consciousness only by an increasingly brittle thread, and view my even earlier starts on Thursday and Friday with justifiable trepidation, but even here I am trying to Make The Best Of Things and am hoping this might force my body clock into something less like a prostitute’s.
I’ve found out I got a better grade in last semester’s moot course than about half the people who got into the teams I viewed as more prestigious. This challenges the assumptions underlying a lot of my previous angst about letting myself down through bad performance.
Ming + FS’s Hell’s Kitchen sounds awesome from my new speakers. That has absolutely nothing to do with university but let’s be holistic here.
Most importantly, I’m finally coming round to the view that it has all been, and will be, for the best.
In hindsight, there is almost nothing I would be willing to exchange for the 16 days I could devote to being with Alec when he was here – a freedom that would simply not have been possible if I’d got on the moot team I originally wanted. Distance is still a bitch, but over the next few months it will hopefully become our bitch now that Alec’s going to get broadband.
For the first time in years, I’ve bothered with New Year’s resolutions. Going lindy-hopping again, improving my bowling score, learning to drive, keeping in touch with friends, drinking equal amounts of pure water for all other drinks I have, and taking positive steps to combat my eczema seem realistic enough, and will all make me much happier in Singapore if acted upon.
In the meantime, there are Chinese karaoke songs to perfect, (apparently) a dirt cheap bar in Suntec City to enjoy with Terry and other like-minded lushes, a poetry festival in the offing, rare Múm mp3s available for download on their site, and a beloved boyfriend to call, right now, in fact. Peace out.