That Time of Year

They say the first fall after university is a difficult experience. Changing leaves and cold winds bring back memories of dormitory shenanigans, and young people bearing backpacks stand as a stark reminder of one's own mortality and the inevitable march of time. The say that, at this time of year, you pine for the recent past.

I'm not sure what the hell they're talking about.

Sure, I miss my university friends well enough. But with sleepovers and barhopping in abundant supply (see my posts for literally the entire month of September) and a blowout party scheduled two weeks from now in the Goldlands, it's not like those old comrades have exactly ridden off into the horizon.

The things that have been out of my life are a whole lot less laudable: courses and professors and freezing early-morning walks to chilly classrooms and a flu season that intersects perfectly with fall midterms. I suppose fall midterms are coming up, aren't they? It is October now.

Ah, the joys of being out.

Perhaps because I'm one of the few recent graduates to have embarked (I say embarked because I don't have a paycheck coming yet) on a promising career path, I have greeted the turn of seasons not with nostalgia for the glory days of '09 but with a feeling of glee not unlike a thief would enjoy after making off scot-free with your grandmother's jewels.

I get to have fall without exams. I get to have fall without studying. I get to have fall without homework. I feel like I'm stealing something.

It's so delightful.

And just in case I had any delusions that autumn could begin only with notebooks and satchels, the onset of cold weather was particularly early this year. School did not start anew, at least not for me, but the first week of September brought an unseasonable chill, the leaves duly commenced darkening, and, two weeks ago, I found my mother at the stove whipping up a batch of her famed chicken-noodle soup.

Fall had come after all.

That's not to say that all's been well this new season; work and money worries abound as always, and the other day I had an episode that can only be described as disturbing, one I've refrained from sharing here for fear of looking like a total lunatic.

But all in all things are better than they could be. The wonderful friends I made at university are still in my life, though their role is truncated. In a world of burger-flipping bachelor's-degree holders I'm neither unemployed nor working a menial service job. In time I will sell my projects and make my money and have a great deal more freedom than I do now.

In time.

The problem is, of course, hanging on until time decides to keep up its end of the bargain, and if I run out of money before time runs out of excuses then I will be in a fine pickle, indeed.

Anxiety aside, I'm trying to enjoy myself.

I love this time of year.