There are many things of which I am scared, and at the top of the list is a broad category labelled “everything I haven’t done before”. This includes stupid things, like applying to take annual leave, and more serious ones, like trying to figure out if/how a long term relationship will work.

The next couple of weeks will be interesting. I delve into the weird and wonderful world of retail during Christmastime, I start a full time job, alongside my two (and a half?) others, I apply for a position at a place where I’ve been dying to work, I try and figure out what I’m doing next year, since there’s no mid year enrolment for Honours, I graduate, and then I will probably need to start reading like a madwoman if I’m to figure out what exactly I’m doing for Honours.

All of this is new. In the back of my mind, I know I’ll be okay – because in the end, I always am. That’s why I’m still here today. But it’s still fucking scary. I feel like there’s no safety net, that there’ll be nothing to fall back on if one of these carefully placed cogs fails to turn at the right speed and at the right time.

Of course I know that’s not how life works. The cog jams, you swear a little bit, mostly at yourself, and you fix it. You get it working again. It might be tough and frustrating and annoying, but you get there in the end.

I had a plan for the next few years of my life, and I made that plan against my better judgement. I knew life didn’t work according to plans, and yet I did it anyway, but it’s because they make me feel safe. They make me feel like I know what I’m doing, and if I fall off the tightrope then it’s okay, because somehow, I’ll figure out how to get back on. Somehow.

I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a whirlwind of energy that’s coming closer and closer with each day. I am scared, but I also know that I don’t do things by halves, and that almost everything I do has a reason behind it. Some of them may be stupid reasons, but as long as I’ve justified it to myself, it’s reason enough for me.

I’ll probably be run off my feet for the next couple of months, and I honestly don’t know if or how I’m going to cope. I don’t even know how I feel about it, other than scared out of my fucking wits. But I know there’s no point in continuing to play it safe. There’s a whole lot of life to be lived, and I may as well start now.

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