Looking for the Key

Well I've been set loose.  

It's been a whirlwind of a first semester, and honestly speaking not the best on account of being stripped of what moneys I didn't really have in the first place.  Even though I've made lots of friends, I'm not entirely sure I belong anywhere.  I never have a group of friends to hang with outside of uni and I've hardly partied or gone out...hmmm.  Should I be surprised by this?  Err no?

I miss London so much, I consider leaving.  

I won't of course.  It's not time.  But as soon as this degree is done, I'm beelining it there.  I think I left a bit of me behind, and I'm desperate to retrieve it.  

I'm close to tearing out my hair regarding the job situation, I don't know what to do...except wait for some vacancies (in retail, which I detest) to pop up after the Christmas break.  

I'm in the process of giving myself a makeover, I feel like I'm bordering on some kind of early 20s-mid life crisis.  But this can happen any time, to anyone.  Because if you were 22, and had a degree, a job, a flat, a car, a boyfriend and a buzzing social life you'd be sitting pretty.  But if you were like me, studying for a degree that takes you further away from the person you want to be, swamped in debt, without a job, and not much to show for the past 3 years, you'd be bordering on a breakdown too.

They say "it's never too late."

Bollocks.  22, is not 19.  22, is being perched at the top of a downwards spiralling hill, and waiting for life to give you a final push towards bedlam.  Fun times. 

I'm not going to let this lapse of happiness push me over the edge.  I'm going to spend the vacation writing, reworking my coursework, and making myself over.  

Then I can be ready for the New Year.  For the New Life.