The Art of Being Selfish

It was never going to be longer than a couple of months, and I was always going to be too busy. It would never really have worked out; I have my fingers in too many pots. I’m not ready to settle down, and I’m definitely not ready to make such a commitment. Not when I’m getting opportunities here and there for potential jobs, when I haven’t even had the time to truly think through my options and prospects.

When I started this summer, I was going to spend at least one day a week by myself, and volunteer two days a week. But then family plans threw a spanner in the works, and I’ll only have worked a total of five weeks, with no volunteering time logged, and no time for myself, either. I prioritized seeing friends that I had lost touch with over the years of moving around the UK. I focused on new friends. I spent three intensive weeks with my family.

I’ve read a few books, I’ve had a lot of laughs.  I’ve even been on a pedicycle around London Bridge with people from work.  I’ve met a whole new host of people, I’ve had closure from one of the most important people in my life.  Every weekend, I’ve had activities to keep me occupied and stopped me from going to the local market for fresh fruit and vegetables.  And now, I’m back at Square One.  My notebook is sadly still half empty.  My music library is an embarrassing state of Westlife, Otis Redding, and the Feeling, I still haven’t booked the train ticket to see one of my best friends because… well… I haven’t really had time (or money.  Thank god payday is soon).  And I haven’t told them that I’ve actually double booked and so will only be coming up for 24 instead of 36 hours.

Tomorrow I’m going to try vegan Indian food in Soho and have another cocktail (because I might as well keep piling this weight on).  Wednesday I’ll be enjoying a view of London from Regent’s Park, and Friday… good lord knows where Friday is going to take us.

But you know what, I’m living it up.  I’m enjoying my busy state- and I’m even winning a few free Pret coffees along the way.  So what I have a shadow under my eyes?  As long as there’s still a shine to them, and I have a spring in my step on my way to work, I’m not fussed.

 

 

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