Given my lack of activity, the options were either I was dead or I’ve been feeling relatively fine of late, and luckily it was the latter.
First to get me out of the funk was the European Championships, followed soon after by the Olympics. Two tournaments I strive to watch every moment I can, and in the case of the Olympics, it involved waking up at 6am consistently for 16 days. Something I’m not sure I’ve ever done before in my life.
During this ‘high’, I built the motivation to apply for a few jobs: one with good pay, the rest in fields I could certainly see myself thriving in. And I did a terrible thing after. I dared to dream. Dreamt of where I could move, looked at potential properties in the budget range, what I could do with the place and, most crucially, dreamt of what it would be like to live an adult, financially independent life.
And then I heard nothing. Days became months. That unrealistic hope in my heart faded and faded until nothing remained. I can only assume the positions have been filled (in one case, I know for a fact it happened) and now I’m back to where I was at the start of Spring.
Where does this leave me? Unless another job jumps out at me it’s unlikely I’ll be applying for anything soon, as the rejection (or rather, the neglect) affects me far too much and it’s like an open invitation for the darkness to seep into my brain.
Christmas is coming up, and as both the best and worst time of the year for my mood, we’ll see what it brings…