Help, I think I’m having too much fun. Wait, did I just say that?
Well, it’s true.
I constantly am out and about town, seeing sites, making friends, eating lots of fish and chips (lie, I’ve only had that once while I’ve been here), and having the time of my life. It almost seems unreal. I only have to show up to class for about 3 hours a day, four hours a week and the three hours are in one go. So, from 6-9 PM on Mondays and Tuesdays and then 10-1PM on Wednesdays and Thursdays, I go to class. I have outside weekly reading for only one course and no text books, and for another course I go to see one theatre performance a week for homework. Am I even in school? That’s the real question.
As I sit and watch Netflix marathons or decide that it’s okay to go dancing on a Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday (okay, so I left out Thursday-Saturday, because those are givens), I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. When does the fun end? I have no coursework due until March and it won’t take me more than a few hours worth of research sessions and a couple hours/sessions of straight paper writing to complete it. Until then, I’m just living the high life.
Does this sound like I’m bragging? Because I’m not trying to, I am just legitimately concerned that I’m missing something, like I should be doing more work. I never once in my life thought that I would say that. Maybe it’s because for once, the work that I’m doing doesn’t feel like work. Maybe for once, I figured out what I love to do and I can enjoy where I am in life without worrying so much. Maybe for once, I got it right. Ten points to Gryffindor. And wish me luck as I go out to celebrate Harry’s 21st birthday tonight… on a Sunday.