I am actually still alive. For real.
I hardly believe I'm doing this.
Three years, people. Well, I'll better get this thing rolling before I lose my courage. It's one of those Now or Never moments.
Things happened during my Lost Years. Lots of things. Nothing particularly grand or terribly exciting but I've always been of a firm opinion that life is about distance, not speed, so I'm quite satisfied with the result, anyway.
Finished school and got my degree. I should already have two, actually, but my second thesis is still not cooperating and stupidly refuses to write itself. Then I went and got myself a job. The universe turned out to be of benevolent nature after all, since I somehow managed to find myself a fairly well paid one that does not require getting out of bed before 8:30 am. On the other hand, I'm an accountant. And I work for A Corporation. Terrifying thing is, I don't even seem to mind it that much.
Still living in the same place I did, even though it is a bit of a shithole. Well, moving is just too much bother. The roster of flatmates went through some changes over the years, I still abide. Well, I'm nothing if not consistent. One of my bestest friends moved back in, which is a good thing. Another moved out, which is not, but she did it to pursue Life and All, so I can't really fault her for that.
Got myself an honest-to-god boyfriend, who I managed to stomach for most of a calendar year (no, seriously, I was genuinely impressed with myself). Got dumped by said boyfriend for, I suppose, not giving a shit (I'd be more angry about it if it wasn't true). Lost myself a parent, which I did give a shit about, but, hey, that's life. Had to happen sometime.
Taught myself to cook, which turned out to be quite fun. I don't really cook all that often but it's nice to know that I can. Still can't swim or drive properly, but we can't have it all.
Started going to a gym (still reeling from the shock). Started wearing high heels on a routine basis (I know, for shame. They really do make your legs look better, though.) Grew my hair out a bit (but still too scared to try colour). Inserted a few non-black things into my wardrobe (baby steps).
Watched lots of movies. Close to a thousand actually, which I'm absurdly proud of. Read about 50 books. Which makes me feel like an illiterate. Oh, and I finally beat my comic book addiction down to a manageable size. Took me some time, that one.
All in all, my Lost Years (I capitalize with genuine relish, it enhances Drama) have treated me well. It's high time for them to end, though. I kinda missed recording my thought processes quasi-publicly. It tickled my hidden exhibitionist streak. So, yeah, I think I might really be back.
.
Three years, people. Well, I'll better get this thing rolling before I lose my courage. It's one of those Now or Never moments.
Things happened during my Lost Years. Lots of things. Nothing particularly grand or terribly exciting but I've always been of a firm opinion that life is about distance, not speed, so I'm quite satisfied with the result, anyway.
Finished school and got my degree. I should already have two, actually, but my second thesis is still not cooperating and stupidly refuses to write itself. Then I went and got myself a job. The universe turned out to be of benevolent nature after all, since I somehow managed to find myself a fairly well paid one that does not require getting out of bed before 8:30 am. On the other hand, I'm an accountant. And I work for A Corporation. Terrifying thing is, I don't even seem to mind it that much.
Still living in the same place I did, even though it is a bit of a shithole. Well, moving is just too much bother. The roster of flatmates went through some changes over the years, I still abide. Well, I'm nothing if not consistent. One of my bestest friends moved back in, which is a good thing. Another moved out, which is not, but she did it to pursue Life and All, so I can't really fault her for that.
Got myself an honest-to-god boyfriend, who I managed to stomach for most of a calendar year (no, seriously, I was genuinely impressed with myself). Got dumped by said boyfriend for, I suppose, not giving a shit (I'd be more angry about it if it wasn't true). Lost myself a parent, which I did give a shit about, but, hey, that's life. Had to happen sometime.
Taught myself to cook, which turned out to be quite fun. I don't really cook all that often but it's nice to know that I can. Still can't swim or drive properly, but we can't have it all.
Started going to a gym (still reeling from the shock). Started wearing high heels on a routine basis (I know, for shame. They really do make your legs look better, though.) Grew my hair out a bit (but still too scared to try colour). Inserted a few non-black things into my wardrobe (baby steps).
Watched lots of movies. Close to a thousand actually, which I'm absurdly proud of. Read about 50 books. Which makes me feel like an illiterate. Oh, and I finally beat my comic book addiction down to a manageable size. Took me some time, that one.
All in all, my Lost Years (I capitalize with genuine relish, it enhances Drama) have treated me well. It's high time for them to end, though. I kinda missed recording my thought processes quasi-publicly. It tickled my hidden exhibitionist streak. So, yeah, I think I might really be back.
.