...really, has it been this long since I posted? A couple of the realities I talked about have actually happened; we've been to Italy (and came back with 15kg of cheese and cured meats), we've been to Sweden (and came back with an inane amount of crockery). I'm not quite in my job any more, thanks to a promotion. Which means I'm actually pretty much in the same job, but I have more responsibilities and a little more money. The next three months are going to be interesting! And I may very well be dead by Christmas.
Dreams and reality are unfortunately still not colliding at all, but at least things are moving along. M and I have had our first serious talk about moving to London, and I think we can pretty much put a date on it - one more year in Oxford, or thereabouts, and that's it. Which is, in itself, terrifying. We have this lovely little life here, so sheltered, with an incredibly close group of friends we see almost every day. And it sounds like in a year's time our little group is going to explode in many different directions. Somehow that's a lot scarier than moving countries, or moving continents, or all the scary things I've done.
I am 26, and every day I wake up realising a little more that I really am a grown up now. And I think, what the fuck happened? Two days ago I was 18 and moving to London, yesterday I was 22 and moving to Oxford. Not that any of it is bad, it just makes me realise how fast time goes. And also that I need to stop hankering for the past, and start thinking about the future.
