I have done absolutely nothing today, and leafing through my calendar the days stare back empty at me. No appointments; no little meetings to encourage the beaver to be busy. Just no thing to attend to, to meet up for, to discuss, or to consider – and it feels awesome.
This week was the culmination of about a month of stress, with the holiday break in the middle, and I did the last of the tests that I have to do. Now, until June there’s really nothing that I have to fret about. The hamster is out of the hamster wheel, and I should have space and time again to write. Maybe to start a new novel. Maybe to actually try to finish my little game project.
I haven’t written anything substantial for so long that I’m wondering if I still can do it. Maybe the gears in my head have rusted shut, and I can’t use any bolt-cutters and machinery to remove the mental padlocks and spider webs.
***
Things are winding down then, and it actually feels quite nice. I can live my ambitions through Mark, and be either the supporting one or the nagging one. But he hasn’t received the response yet, so we’re eagerly awaiting it. End of January, right? It is the end of the month now, and there’s just a few days left of it.
Yeah, I can be the black-haired bimbo that live up to ambitions that I won’t be able to fulfil myself. I’ll be the trophy boyfriend, with the rich and successful scientist man in ten years time when my money has run out and his are starting to pile up.
No, that is a joke. I don’t actually think that. It’s just that I don’t have a flipping clue about what to do next while Mark still is in da zone with his ambitions and dreams. His haven’t been derailed yet, and I don’t think they will be. While my application was one of the first to get sorted out into the bin, they’re still mulling over his, right?
I’m trying to think of what life will be like this autumn. We’ll be married, but he’ll be away for weeks at a time. What will that be like? It’s not something that I look forward to. I’ll be doing my own humdrum stint here at the local university, so I can’t really go with him, can I?
***
People gave me money today when I sang. I was jamming with a few of the girls outside school, and this couple passed by and tossed us two quid into my school bag. I may be up in front of the Magistrate for license violations. I think you need a license to do busking here.
Still, it’s the first time anyone has given me any money for my singing, so I’m a bit pleased by it. At least someone out there appreciate my singing enough to part with hard earned cash for it. 
Maybe I could delude myself into thinking that I’m a singer, when my attempt at reaching the pinnacles of academia is going nowhere right now.
***
It is Friday. Things are back to normal. Maybe I’ll now not feel guilty about leaving this blog be for days at a time because I can’t find anything to say that sounds remotely interesting to you lot. I hope so.
It’s great that you’ve had a relaxing week! As someone who aspires to be a writer/psychologist/teacher (or a lawyer, but that doesn’t make sense in this context) I know how it feels like to consider the “trophy boyfriend” or “trophy husband” idea. But I feel like you have a strong bond and that you can still do great things with your life even if you attend your local university. Who knows where your education will take you?
PS: Great job on getting money for singing. (:
Hahaha, maybe they gave me money to shut it, eh?
Just kidding. No, it was nice. 
I was in a pub once when one of a group of musicians (sic) passed the hat round. My mate looked at him and said “I’ll give you ten quid to eff off”. He got a lot of murmured approval
.
Enjoy the downtime!
Don’t live your life through Mark, or be the trophy guy – you are too good to waste doing either of those. Do your ‘stint’ at a regular uni, and enjoy and be proud of it – you’re still in the top how-many-percent of the education system’s output, to be going to uni at all, so stop with the ‘it’s not Oxbridge’ mentality and get on with making the most of what you /do/ have, y’hear?
And, don’t think you need to have something ‘interesting’ to put here – if you feel like posting, post anything – it’s always good to hear from you.
Now you sound like Mark. *suspicious*
Haha, so I share an opinion, and we share the county we live in, but that’s about as close as I get, I think! (Oh, and I’m a science and tech person more than humanities).
Maybe that’s why I like reading your posts so much!
Whoa… where do I begin? First, enjoy your stress free existence for a little while and then /do/ something because boredom is really depressing. Second, and this is my favourite, pay attention when opportunity comes knocking! Two pound thrown into your school bag may not mean you have a career as a busker in front of you, but it may mean that you should pay more attention to your music in some way. Until now your focus has been academia first, music 2nd or 3rd. Flip that around. What would happen if you changed to a music degree? Could you?
I don’t know what you can do with your music but if it’s just something you’ve done because you enjoy it then perhaps it’s time to take it a little more seriously. I’ve heard you sing and you’re /good/. Why not try to find out just exactly how good you really could be?
In ten years time you may look back at that 2 pounds and see it as the fork in the road.
I sang this. I love this song. It’s so sad. But I’ve actually done what you suggest. When I started singing, I wanted to be a star. I wanted to be big. But the problem is that I enjoy singing in bursts, as a hobby. If I do too much of it, I start to lose interest in it. It’s not at all like writing. I could write 24/7. I love music, couldn’t live without music, but don’t actually want it as a profession.
Posted a comment on your blog.
hey colin how are you doing? and since I haven’t read anything for the last 4 months, have you seen Les Mis?!
Why not take some singing lessons if you’ve got a bit of free time? It wouldn’t mean you have to do it as a profession, or do more of it than you want, but you could learn some valuable things about technique, how to look after your voice etc.
you were given money you did not solicit? that’s pretty good – and perfectly legal.
you are ALLOWED to strut your stuff anywhere that it is legal to make noise; they cannot evict you for making a joyful noise unto your invisible friend.
the same logic applies to whoring your sphincter. If you ASK for money, or negotiate a rate, that makes it prostitution. But until compensation is discussed – verbally or non-verbally – any money given is a discretionary donation.
[though I have to say, two quid for your sphincter would just possibly be a teeny bit on the low side. if you ever go that way, i think you'd need to attract discretionary donations of a somewhat more ambitious nature to feel the exercise was blogworthy]
By the time I’ve read your posts and the comments I realize that what I’d have said was said by others. I will say that life has a funny way of forcing you to periodically take stock and reevaluate things. If you were an author with a side career as a musician you’d be in good company. So follow your bliss wherever it leads. Life will be good with Mark by your side.
I like what Simon said. Hey, you can still get a rather splendid education at a lower price and still amaze the world. I understand though. Here in the U.S. it’s starting to look like my poetry work is going to be a tougher sell, as far as reaching anything like the top, simply because I didn’t go to Harvard, or teach at Berkeley. But I only sound like you in my most cynical moments.
As for the singing. You know I live with a brilliant musician, right? I played your singing for him once, and he wanted to know who I you were. He didn’t think you were a street singer, but someone who had an album out already. I agree. You’re good. There are so many directions open to you, and I don’t think, despite Frost’s poem, that life can be reduced to “two roads” diverging in a yellow wood. You get to write your own story, and I hate to sound like one of those silly grown-ups, but the possibilities are staggering.