The last two days have been very hectic as we have, in this mad charge, tried to squeeze out the last drops of summer and freedom. This attempt to stave off the inevitable has brought us far and wide across the south and the south-east, including to a stony beach where sea gulls took exception to our presence and tried to attack Mark by way of pooping on him.
The undignified crazy run back over hills and knolls to the car was something we laughed at later, once Mark had found a place where he could wash his hair out. But when it happened, it felt like we dropped into that Hitchcock film. Remember, birds are little dinosaurs, and those sea gulls are just hungry velociraptors!
My running a few miles two times a week thus paid off because it was the wheezing and slow husband of mine that was the main target of attack. I’m a fast bugger when I want to be, although maybe my instinct to get away wasn’t the most brave thing I’ve done. Maybe I should have put my self between these little dinosaurs and the love of my life to stand in between him and his fecal fate.
I was, actually, a bit surprised by the birds because I thought they only did that if they had chicks to protect. But it’s far too late in the season for hatchings, isn’t it? Maybe we just came across an annoyed troupe that decided to vent their frustrations on us.
That incident brought an end to our roaming about the countryside, and today we have spent much of the time indoors. I still haven’t finished Grand Theft Auto 5, even though I love the game and want to see how it turns out. It’s such a massive game, and all these activities keep getting in the way of progress.
Tomorrow Fresher week starts, and I won’t say I’m not a bit nervous. That would be an obvious lie, and my heart is counting the ways that disaster could strike. My head knows that most likely nothing much will happen. But my heart never did listen to my head, and when my heart gets going my head just takes an aspirin and goes somewhere quiet while the heart rages on. I bet there’s a “not again” before the door slams behind the head.
I seriously doubt I will sleep much tonight, which means that tomorrow when I have to go to the campus, I’ll be tired and worn and not on my best behaviour. I wonder if that self-destructive streak that I suspect I have is responsible for this? Like it was planned? Oooo, on Thursday a new bit of his life starts, I better be ready with some nasty mischief.
People tell me not to worry, but that has never helped before, and when Mark says it now, it doesn’t improve anything. My heart will rage on, and list one potential scenario after another.
Maybe I should have that aspirin myself and go into some quiet room.
At least with Mark and I, neither has the pressure to socialize much, and what we do is without pressure to ‘maybe meet someone’. The friends we get, and the people we meet, will be interacted with because we want it, instead of like with Abbie and Stephen and Ben who have an element of expectation.
Tomorrow our merry band reunites once more, and that feels all right. Us happy three that have been together for two years will trudge into the same place and the same space and the same faculty. We will be the bulwark against the masses. Reading that, I fear that in six months time, we will all be horrible elitist intellectual wankers. But like Julian Barnes wrote: Yes, of course we were pretentious – what else is youth for?
Despite me crawling under the bed to hide from tomorrow, as I wrote above, I am actually looking forward to it. I think it will be a new and exciting chapter. A beginning. And who knows what the middle and the end of that book will be like? I think it will be glorious.