Hello, dear readers,
This isn’t the post you’ve likely come to expect from me (though given my recent amount of posts, what you probably expect is none at all… apologies!) but as I sit here in my room, on a sunny Edinburgh day, I may as well talk about it.

Decisions, kids. Today’s topic is decisions. I admit, first year was a bit of a trial run. I still lived within the sheltered walls of university accommodation and that gave the sense that nothing bad could touch me. None of the hard times I might have gone through in that first year really mattered. But then I moved out into private accommodation with two of my friends and suddenly, we were in the real world.
The big, scary world, of reading and signing leases, paying for bills, doing gas meter checks, dealing with estate agents, and 2nd year of university on top of all that. And suddenly, those little things that happened in first year become real. You start to feel the real loss of friends you might have lost touch with over petty things in first year, or the boy who you thought you could trust that turned out to be not quite so trustworthy after all…
And then suddenly, you’re almost through with 2nd year and you begin to wonder… where did all that time go? How did I go from blogging about wanting to be in Edinburgh so badly to actually being here? To having been here for nearly two years?
If these years have gone by so quickly, how quickly will the next two go by? Before you’re plunged into yet another world, even bigger and scarier than the last, as you try to find a job or continue studying? And what if what you want to study changes? I will admit there have been times that I have sat in a lecture wondering what I am doing with my life (only my outside course, but still) and while I am very happy with the decisions that have brought me to where I am today, I suppose it’s just that natural feeling of change we sometimes get that’s called growing up. You think you’re an adult when you start uni, but you’re not. You think you’re an adult, when you move out of uni flats, but you’re not. I think it’s only that when you truly take a look at your decisions and realize that life isn’t exactly what you thought it would be, and that things never quite go according to plan, but appreciating that fact, that you begin to understand what it is to be an adult.
But who wants to be an adult, anyway?
And on that melancholy note, I shall go merrily read about the Mesolithic and leave you all to ponder existence. Expect more cheerful posts in future. I am not, after all, a philosopher, but an archaeology student.
Cheers,
Tiff