Fight + Flight = Nosebleed

As delighted as I am to be accepted into SCA, it has put into motion wheels that will tear me from the docile reverie of my beloved hovel. I now need to leave my job, rent out my room, move country and, above all else, meditate.

Historically, my particular brand of meditation involved a healthy dose of worrying myself to the point of nosebleed coupled with frantic pacing (regularly breaking my PB on my phone’s step counter app. Silver linings, eh?). Now I get to do all that while packing boxes. Class…

Nothing quite says new beginnings like painstakingly sifting through old beginnings with new ends. Reflecting and asking yourself the big questions like “What the absolute balls have I done with my life!?” and “What the absolute balls am I about to do with my life!?”. The almost instantaneous effect of getting a place in SCA is the injection of momentum and purpose it has given me. Even if it makes me want to run in the other direction screaming “FIRE!” while gesturing towards my temples. Another ASBO for wasting the fire department’s time.

In the brief moments of calm I can tell myself that I’ve fought the good fight to get here (just the beginning of it I suspect). Fuelled by my worries, I need to 

  1. book a flight ASAP and 
  2. plug my nose with an aloe vera treated tissue and…
  3. sort these boxes out

I sit here now in the terror, typing through the blood. 

P.S. The aloe does nothing.


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