Longing
I know it's been awhile since I posted here, but I'm at a loss as to what to write.
There's just under five weeks left in our program. Five weeks. It's hard to believe. I remember when I first started, I felt so overwhelmed and under-motivated that I didn't think I'd make it. And now we're all frantically finishing our final docs/features and celebrating the near-end of media theory. That doesn't mean the stress-level is decreasing at all. We're still grasping for ideas and interviews weekly, just as we did 10 months ago. Pitch. Chase. Interview. Write. Repeat. But I'm not going to lie, everyone in this program is incredibly supportive of one another.
Yesterday marked the first feeble return of spring--or winter's death knell, as Dan called it. One all-too-short day of sunshine and plus-14 temperatures brought hibernating Londoners out of the woodwork and on to the patios of Richmond Row. A small group of us j-students met at Molly Bloom's to de-stress and debate halter tops. We'll have spent every season together by the time we graduate.
My roomie and I also gave notice on our apartment last week, meaning I'll be moving... again. I'm desperate to settle somewhere, to nest and paint and just have some stability. I've lived in this apartment for nearly a year, which is longer than I've lived anywhere in the last five. I remember when Marie and I moved in, we swore we would never move again. In fact, we joked about living until we were 80 and dying here, so that our friends and family would have to move all of our junk. But life keeps going, and it didn't make sense for either of us to renew the lease. We're both headed back to the A-dot, for the summer at least, or until bigger changes happen...
There's just under five weeks left in our program. Five weeks. It's hard to believe. I remember when I first started, I felt so overwhelmed and under-motivated that I didn't think I'd make it. And now we're all frantically finishing our final docs/features and celebrating the near-end of media theory. That doesn't mean the stress-level is decreasing at all. We're still grasping for ideas and interviews weekly, just as we did 10 months ago. Pitch. Chase. Interview. Write. Repeat. But I'm not going to lie, everyone in this program is incredibly supportive of one another.
Yesterday marked the first feeble return of spring--or winter's death knell, as Dan called it. One all-too-short day of sunshine and plus-14 temperatures brought hibernating Londoners out of the woodwork and on to the patios of Richmond Row. A small group of us j-students met at Molly Bloom's to de-stress and debate halter tops. We'll have spent every season together by the time we graduate.
My roomie and I also gave notice on our apartment last week, meaning I'll be moving... again. I'm desperate to settle somewhere, to nest and paint and just have some stability. I've lived in this apartment for nearly a year, which is longer than I've lived anywhere in the last five. I remember when Marie and I moved in, we swore we would never move again. In fact, we joked about living until we were 80 and dying here, so that our friends and family would have to move all of our junk. But life keeps going, and it didn't make sense for either of us to renew the lease. We're both headed back to the A-dot, for the summer at least, or until bigger changes happen...
