On the Brink

Being on the brink of finishing university feels like a rather precarious position to be in right now.  I feel a bit like I'm perched at the edge of a cliff, being slowly nudged further forward as the days and weeks roll slowly over.  Towards a drop I can't see, I can't anticipate - towards something completely alien and utterly alienating.  

I don't want to be a graduate because once I graduate, that's it.  I'm out there, in the world, without the comforting bubble and loosely cradling rhythm of university terms, reading lists and student loans.  I have to make bigger decisions than what to have for breakfast, what club to go to on the weekend or whether or not I should skip my lecture.  Soon, I will have to be a real adult with real responsibilities and God help me I will even have to pay council tax. 

I feel like I should be excited.  I feel like I should be taking things in my stride by now, bowling through final term with renewed almost-a-graduate gusto.  I feel like I should have plans.  But the truth is, I'm fucking terrified.

I don't want this blog to only be one roughly polished, palatable portion of my life.  Because at the moment, that part is buried under the confusion and turmoil of being on the brink.   
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