This time last year I was mourning the loss of the ever familiar first-day-of-school. And it wasn't just the first day of school, it was the long, painful walk home from the Co-op with 900 pounds of books, the new box of pens to replace the 50 new (read: lost) pens I bought last semester, the confirmation that, indeed, no one else did the "pre-reading" either, the first-day-of-school drinks downtown, and the first-day-of-school hangover. This time last year, I was missing what had been.
And I struggled with life and my new place in it.
Even now I still mentally break down my calendar year into semesters, which doesn't make any sense considering my schedule couldn't be more unfitting. I'm more likely to be working during typical "break" times, and I'm most likely off when the rest of the world is working. Christmas break might only consist of two days off near-ish the holiday, but on any random week I might be off for five days for no good reason. There are no more definite "starts" and "stops" during my year, which I originally thought would make for quick burn-out and time that stands nearly still. In reality, though, the past year couldn't have passed more quickly.
Some things changed.
And others never will.
There have been new adventures.
And time to do things simply because I want to do them.
I'm not sure at what point I will stop considering September to be the start of a new year. Until then, cheers to the past, present, future, and the lovin' from the oven I plan to bake all day tomorrow.
