The Apathetic Progression of Time
My academic year is over, no more, kaput! Banished to the rarely trodden corridors of history, to be subsequently touched upon only by fading memories. It seems that every time I am motivated enough to scribe my musings, I want to write about how strangely disconnected everything is. The communitarian spirit that seemed to unite at various points of lockdown seems to have given way to a profound sense of apathy, even as restrictions gradually lift on our ability to meet and greet one another. Allow me to wonder aloud why everything feels so distant. Though perhaps this apathy is personal.
Returning home is a peculiar adjustment, one that will never sit comfortably after the independence of adulthood has sunk in. Time flows in ways I didn't know were possible, slipping by slowly yet noticeably. Every day lacks the variation of continuous interaction with others. Admittedly, it's not currently helped by being home alone, but the emotional stimulation of social interaction with friends and peers is tough to beat.
As first years of uni go, this has to be one of the wackiest. In-person teaching has been entirely amiss and the online teaching has had many unexpected consequences. Pre-recorded lectures are beneficial in that they enable me to work at my own pace and create notes of a suitable standard, but the process is deeply isolating. Working out of a bedroom, occasionally talking to a screen, does utterly fail in replicating the socialising and peer mentoring that could be achieved by in-person teaching, though at least my tutorials this semester have been synchronous. This has also made the challenge of choosing modules for next year even harder, having not gained as firm a grasp of various topics as I would have liked. In a way, this doesn't matter, it's not an honours year and everyone else is in the same boat. Yet it also means everything, being as my modules will likely be my primary source of social interaction for next year, with the university failing to commit to fully in-person teaching for next year. Anyway, I should move on...
The comfort of being outdoors is not truly realised until one actually goes outside. Yesterday, I finally left the house at 6:30 PM, driven mildly insane by my lack of purpose exercised during the day. This isn't a unique feeling, in fact it characterised much of Lockdown 1.0, and the initial weeks of uni. Perhaps it's also not helped by no longer having to prepare for running a marathon...
In the meantime, I will battle myself against becoming a reclusive hermit, and try and find something to push myself towards. The 'grand reopening of the 21st June should in theory help that quest, if it does eventually go ahead. In the meantime, the clock keeps on ticking, as steadily and presently as my marathon support crew, who I'm immensely grateful towards. If you'd still like to donate, the link is here.
Take care out there!
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