Storming Phase

I spent much of today feeling very annoyed with my new roommates. Yesterday I discovered that a jar of quarters I had kept near the washing machines had vanished completely, and I was unable to do the load of laundry I intended until today after going out to get some more. Further, the kitchen counters have been a mess and the sinks piled high with their dishes.

I was soothed a bit when I asked one of the trio who cook together and talk so much together when I could expect them to have cleaned it up, and was told they could have it done in an hour, but when I came back from my errands to find the house empty and the kitchen still a mess I was angry.

Nothing steals away my energy and motivation to do cool stuff like resentment. After plunging away the blockage that had formed in my ensuite bathroom's toilet and cleaning it, putting my laundry on and into the dryer, I just could not find the inclination to study, although I had already been delaying. I watched YouTube for a while and eventually fell into a mid-afternoon nap... only to be woken by the trio chattering gaily away and returning to the house.

Almost nothing infuriates me like the ongoing distraction of unwelcome noise, and being woken up from tired slumber by it makes it even worse. For some time, I turned this way and that, flopping onto one side, burrowing in my blankets looking for my socks, for I'd fallen asleep clothed. I was angry and exhausted, and knew I would not be able to be polite to my roommates. Eventually, at last, I got myself onto my feet and resolved to go out, get myself a coffee (being caffeinated seems to help my mood as well as my focus) and perhaps seek somewhere quiet where I might get something done on the campus. I still fumed away darkly at the feeling of not having quiet space to enjoy within my house, though.

It occured to me to check the area where religious gatherings and discussions generally took place, just in case there might be somewhere there this Sunday evening whom I could plead to advise me toward patience and diplomacy, because I was out of it... but it was closed up and locked with a note on the door about how to book the space.

I found my way to the library, remembered that the homework I wanted to do would require me to have my headphones to listen to sound, and immediately left again to get coffee and headphones. The landlord was in when I returned, mending a cabinet in the kitchen. I had been strongly considering walking in and demanding of the noisy trio that they keep quiet so I could do my studying, but the presence of an unexpected person took all the wind out of my sails. I collected my headset and walked back out to the college, waiting for a moment outside, as the landlord was leaving at the same time, thinking I might mention my frustration to him... But he was bustling around putting his tools away, so I did not.

I checked out the B building and D junction computer labs, but one was full of more students than I would like to be around, and in the other some people arrived talking noisily to one another, the last thing I had patience for just then, so I made it back to the library lab, and set myself down to work.

In the end, I did about 2 hours and 45 minutes of diligent homework, study and organization tonight at the campus, with a break in the middle to use the bathroom and take a brief walk around the halls. They were so empty, I took up karate stance and a couple of steps, then finding the purchase very slippery, ran and slid across the floor a few times just for fun.

The trio were still awake when I returned home at half past eleven. One was still talking on the phone, although doing so in a soft, low voice. I portioned myself some soup I had made yesterday and a toasted bagel, washed my soup pot (finally empty) and returned to my room where I now write.

Once while I have been writing the girls reconvened and started talking to one another more loudly. Braver now and feeling more justified and more capable, I walked out to firmly hush them: "Excuse me; please; quiet. It's late." I was given an understanding smile and apology in recognition. Perhaps things are not so bad. The state of the kitchen, and seeing them only tidy up in time for them to start cooking and fill up the sink with a whole new batch of dishes is still a major annoyance. I will try to bring it up with them later, when I have more energy and more patience.

Amusingly, yesterday while I was out on a long walk, I listened to a couple episodes of the Accountancy Ireland podcast, and one of them brought up the four stages of team building: Forming, Storming, Norming and Performing. Well, I guess this is bound to happen. At the very worst, I should on most days, or at least most weeks, be able to find somewhere on campus where I am able to focus on schoolwork. If it comes to that. I will have a great deal of complaint to make if it does, but I will not be rendered entirely helpless nor allow myself too make too much of an excuse of it if my home environment is unhelpful.

Another thing I did while walking was listen to Oceans again on loop for a while, and think of Eoin...

When it comes to love, you've dipped your toes in the river, but I've got oceans waiting for you...

It even uses a metaphor of catching fish in there somewhere. Heh. Sigh.
Don't let me fool you. I still love you, Eoin.

Burn Out - Oceans

I woke up this morning feeling really exhausted, and very much wanting to go back to sleep. My system reacted to waking up before it was ready with awful indigestion that kept me returning to the bathroom five minutes after leaving it, until my gut and intestines were acclimatized to my being awake. I had a class to go to. No time to go back to sleep.

While in the bathroom though, I noticed a little detail of definition, a little inward crease running vertically down the center of part of my chest, that I had never noticed before. I've only worked out in my new routine three times so far. Is it possible it could already have made a visible difference somewhere? Perhaps I'm just more inclined to notice details of my body now. However, this is interesting. I might keep looking for new or developing details.

I'm pleased to report that on my days between workouts, I am looking forward to going back, although the curl-ups and shoulder presses are still kicking my ass pretty hard. If my tolerance for them seems to worsen, or fails to get noticeably better for another week or so, I will talk to a coach about it.

I had been looking at Thursday as my second-longest day of classes in the new term. However, it actually seemed pretty forgiving today. The law class I'm taking seems to emphasize different areas of focus than the previous law class, despite using the same textbook. This is cool. I expected to already know this stuff more than what I actually do, which demonstrates that the re-learning and reinforcement will be valuable.

For the last few days, I've been jamming a lot to a song called Burn Out, by Beatdrop, one of the artists I got a free taste of by supporting OCRemix before they got full charitable organization status. It may be one of the first dubstep type songs I've been tempted to try to sing along to. Admittedly, most of the dubstep I've heard doesn't have lyrics. The whole Revolution album has a pretty good pace and tone for my recent start on working out, and continuing to write and complete checklists, pushing to get quite a lot done. It's honestly been a pretty awesome week, but I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, and it's starting to take a toll in the mornings.

A classmate let me borrow her Intermediate Accounting textbook to photocopy pages full of exercises; I bought an old version which doesn't have the same questions in the same order, and the solutions are in an online key only provided for the current version, so if I want to have practice work I can actually check answers to, I'm going to need them.

Actually, this connects back to a weird story. Yesterday was a very packed-full day for me. I had stayed up very late having an awesome conversation with a couple of old friends and someone I had spoken to once about six months ago, but saw online and decided to try asking to play Xyzzy so that we had enough players for a game. The game went great, and we just kept talking. I have found a new awesome person. I also realized that I have been establishing a collection of awesome people and storing them in a little place of my own. I left Ashlynn's Discord server a while ago, having grown increasingly detached and alienated from the community there. Now... I'm building my own. Around the kind of friends I want to have. Some of them I found there. Some, I found in other places. I have my own curated pack of friends. That's... really cool. That's leadership I guess.

So, having stayed up late, I slept in and didn't have as much time as I had originally expected to do everything I planned to do. A session of homework, a meeting with one of my professors to talk about promoting me, my workout session, a bunch of classes, and a household meeting.

I started with homework and did some exercises from my non-current textbook. It was published in 2013, and some of the questions were exactly the same as the ones in the current version which we had taken up in class together, except for the dates, which had been edited to be one year in the future relative to the publishing date of each.

The last question I attempted to answer before heading out for my meeting involved parental leave. I don't really know how to account for parental leave yet. When is it paid out? Periodically throughout the leave? All at the beginning? All at the end? I acknowledged that I didn't know, but decided to attempt to answer the problem using the presumption that it would all be paid at the end. Unlikely, but it was the kind of book keeping I'd been dealing with the most. 17 weeks of parental leave, starting Dec 1, 2014. Okay. Excel, how many days is 17 weeks? So, I need to accrue 31 days of benefits within December and the 2014 year. That leaves 88 more days into 2015, and the last journal entry should be dated...

Um...

March 29th... My birthday. Specifically, my twenty-fifth birthday. Specifically, that one particular day that I started out by staring at my ceiling for half an hour, contemplating my accomplishments at my entry-level retail job and how poorly I felt I was treated there. My ambitions and whether I would ever do anything with any of them. That was the day that, ultimately, that I decided I was going to stop working as a stocker/cashier/donor greeter and go to college.

That... was a really creepy date to show up in my accounting homework. And... if it hadn't been this version of Intermediate Accounting Vol. 2 that I happened to find and picked up at the used textbook shop... it wouldn't have.

And with that bizarre experience feeling strangely profound and important in my head, considering how far I've come, and how many fascinating things I've been through in the past going-on-three years, I headed off to my meeting and told my professor the story of what had just happened.

Today, I actually included "rest and relax" on my list of things to do today. I'm not sure I've done much resting, but I have taken the day happy, and am not stressing myself out taking on more homework.

Law was fine and interesting, and then I went to the first of my Tax classes for this term. My Tax professor is a woman with a fairly thick Bahamas accent who blazes through slides so fast that sometimes I lose track of what she's talking about entirely while trying to figure out what she just said. However, after the lecture, we got to practice, and the practice was actually very clear, and hands-on, with checks and feedback at every step and a clear procedure to follow. I made forms with in-cell equations in Excel that filled themselves out with just a few inputs from the question, and was able to finish several exercises that followed the same pattern very quickly, then spent some time making the spreadsheets beautiful while the rest of the class caught up.

There was a concert at the school this evening, called the "Upside Get Down", featuring three bands I had never heard of: Kid Royal, Chad Price, and Texas King. Tickets were free, and I've kind of committed to participating more in the culture of the college, since I moved right across the street. It was one of the best things about Gate Lodge. I should milk it for what it's worth here too. I invited Ampersand, a local friend and crush, to come with me. He came to my house to hang out a bit beforehand. We shared fries and dumplings and played Ultimate Chicken Horse and watched a bit of TierZoo, then headed to the concert and listened to the opening band play.

They were pretty unpolished, amateurish in both lyrics and performance, and the speakers turned the music into a wall of noise whenever they decided to rock harder for a climactic moment. Not... bad, though. There was some ambition to try things that were difficult, and while the performance wasn't tight yet, I felt that these guys could be on their way towards becoming great. I kept wondering whether Ampersand was having a good time, and tapping my foot, swinging my hip, wanting to get more into the music, wishing people around me were dancing so that I could dance and not be the first one trying to. Wondering whether I was having a good time, mostly feeling tense and affectionate as over-amped love songs, and the lights, and sound loud enough I felt the rhythm hitting my breastbone like waves crashing onto a shore, created an atmosphere of awkwardness and tense romantic potential.

After the set, which Kid Royal closed well, with the best song of the bunch, I took Ampersand away from the noise. His knees were sore, he was getting tired. It had been fun and the music was pretty good, but he wanted to turn in and get some rest. Yeah, okay. It was fun. I walked him back to his car, and hugged him and waved goodnight with thanks for coming, then stood outside for a bit, wondering whether I wanted to go back to the rest of the concert.

After some indecision I did. However, the college doors had locked, and now it was a matter of finding an entrace that had student card access, as many of them don't. The easiest route to the concert was blocked by a security guard in blue who stiffly turned away anyone attempting to enter the free concert through an entrance which had been inexplicably designated exit only. In order to attend, you had to enter from the West, and either have someone open the nearest door from the inside for you (since it lacked a card access point) or detour the long way around the outside of the Student Union Building.

To be honest, this encounter seriously diminished what little was left of my interest in seeing the rest of the concert. However, I found my way to the allowed and intended entrance and inside just in time to hear the second band announce and perform their last song of the set, a song called... "Oceans". I stayed and listened, and softened and enjoyed. In contrast to their openers, this guy, Chad Price, and his band... They had polish. They didn't make the speakers emit a raw mess of noise at their dramatic moments, but made good use of silence to frame sound. His style includes a lot of shifting and bending his pitch around and stretching out vocal tones to play around the rhythm. A lot of people try to do that and it's something I often find pretentious and pointlessly frilly. But he built his style around it, made it fit, and kept the rhythm tight while playing around it. They were good. And it was a really nice love song.

This, I decided. This made a good end to the concert, for me. And I headed home, happy to have returned for that one special song. I found it on YouTube. I sent the link to Ampersand, to share that part of the concert with him in some sense too, and I reflected that... It had sounded better live, something I was delighted to be able to observe. I'm going to download this one. I'm going to make it my song of the day today on Facebook.

It's been a good day.

Also I misplaced my smartphone sometime between my tax class and the concert. I'm not particularly concerned, though. I'll probably find it again tomorrow, and I don't actually use it as a phone anyway, I mostly just listen to podcasts with it.

Dear Memory: New Fitness Regime

Five days, apparently, since I last wrote. Those five days have been quite full, although I am not sure whether I feel they have been eventful, per se. The fullness has been self-driven and domestic in nature.

My new roommates have all moved in. I did a moderately ambitious little sewing project, replacing patches of a worn-out pair of jeans, and then re-sewing a seam that came undone. I've unpacked a little more. I've cleaned my room. I finally got around to sitting down with Coda to have a good long chat about all manner of things. We wound up talking about religion a fair bit.

Probably the most notable event of the past few days... I made and attended an appointment at the wellness center, the gym at the school. It included a sort of electric scan to determine my body composition, and being shown how to adjust and use five of the different kind of exercise machines safely and do two other exercises without machines. I have a workout to do, aiming for three times a week or every second day. It was a significant step outside my usual comfort zone, in all honesty.

I returned the next day, listening to Welcome to Night Vale again. It'd been a while, I've been pursuing other podcasts and audiobooks more lately. I hadn't planned or expected it, but I wound up listening to the first part of the podcast that had been recorded as a live show. Episode 49, divided into parts A and B because it was quite a long show. It was pretty cool. But... I wasn't prepared for the first repeated Weather they've ever done.

It put me in a state of consternation, that special unique feeling that a joke that I thought was over has had another punchline, and it's kind of funny and kind of annoying that it's just not over, because the joke is on me. Of course, the one song that would have to be brought back up, out of 48 that had gone before, and for that matter the plethora of new songs to choose from. It would be the one that I added to my mp3 player and associated with Eoin, wouldn't it? I stood for a while, staring out the window while a live version of the song played in my ears, feeling emotions. Some frustration, and some of a special sad/manic feeling of wanting to either cry or laugh. But gently. It did not overwhelm me. I stood and felt it, and appreciated the way this moment communicated the ongoing drama of my love story. I was a little impatient, a little annoyed... But had no inclination to deny that it was poignant and, in a way, appropriate.

I finished my work out and left the gym, taking a walk to let my thoughts wheel and my body cool down. There was one exercise I didn't finish full sets for, but I stand by the decision. It was becoming too difficult, and it will be better for me to stop early than risk burning out my muscles or my emotional capacity to endure stressing them.

I know what my priorities are on this fitness venture: to try to make exercise more regular and more comfortable for me. To learn to enjoy going to the gym and working out, to get past any lingering feeling of reluctance to do so. That means taking care not to push myself too hard, and erring on the side of stopping early rather than too late so that I don't give myself any reason not to want to come back next time. It's tempting to beast through hardship, but I know that is not sustainable, and this try is all about sustainable.

Success will be enjoying myself, and a couple particular benefits of working out that I look forward to: Sleeping better at night, and feeling more alert while awake. Any weight loss or muscle gain can come second to that energy and restfulness. They will come, if I keep going. I know they will. But slowly.

I have found that in this few days, I think of you less, Eoin. I still think of you, but it doesn't consume as much of my mind. I have mixed feelings about this. I think it's probably a good sign that I am rebalancing my life, able to live more independently, look to my own happiness. I feel so many conflicting things that the net result is mainly tension. I feel as though I may not be okay with everything I feel, and I suspect I am on some level avoiding looking at it.

On the other hand... All this rebalancing, all my determination to have myself a good winter term and keep myself mentally, emotionally, and even physically healthy... Ironically, it comes down in part to that point of not wanting you to feel as though I am spending, or have spent, all my time pining after you in despair and heartbreak. I am making sure I'm doing alright, and to some significant degree, it's because I'm sure it's what you would want me to do, and I don't want you to end up feeling guilty about how things have gone. Isn't that funny?

While I was contemplating my feelings about this, walking by myself, I came back to this: I am still planning to come after you. That it takes up less of my time in obsession does not mean it has become unimportant to me. I still love you. It's haunting me less. That's bound to be a good thing, for now.

The fog is back, and much deeper than it was before. The foggiest day I had ever personally seen in January has already been bested. If not for the clear and familiar roads, I could have gotten lost in it.

Final Exam

Before writing the exam:

The first exam I took in this same testing room was in much different circumstances, just a few students here.

Today, I arrived just on time, and had to wait in line to be processed for about ten minutes, then sit and log in to a computer and wait again until one of the staff on duty here comes to open my exam with the password for me. Five minutes? Ten? I brought a Monster drink with me, and I consider that there is some risk of my being distracted during the test by a need to pee. I wait anxiously for my chance to begin.

I did not study much for this, but I did put in a solid two hours from home this afternoon before coming here, to get my brain back in the practice of the course's exercises and ready. I've got my depreciation pretty well down, from the looks of it, although I'm still a little confused about some methods of tracking impairment. The review document was about half depreciation, with some impairment and capitalisation of intangible assets and goodwill.

-----
After writing the exam:

It went pretty much as expected. I did have to pee for about half of the duration, but regained my focus thoroughly enough to get through the test and answer every part neatly and thoroughly. In a couple of matters, I put a great deal of work into applying all the details of a theory that I wasn't sure was actually the right theory to apply. The doubt was a difficulty, but I overcame it to make my explanations thorough, if it turns out they were the right ones. All in all, I think I can feel fairly confident of earning at least an 80% on the final exam and on the course in general. Grade A, although not A+. I'm happy with that.

I came back from the college hungry and shaky with caffeine jitters, chatted to my roommates, ate some spaghetti, and then retired to play Drawful and Xyzzy with a few close friends for several hours. It was an excellent evening of gaming. My friend Lyric stormed the first game of Xyzzy, reaching 12 points and victory while everyone else was back at 6 or so, and then we played another one, to 15, and it was my turn to have an awesome winning streak. I closed the game with a blank card and a reference to a theme about sandwiches having voting rights which had been established in the previous round. The last winning combination of the game was "WHY DO YOU HATE SANDWICH FREEDOM?" ...And I was very, very happy with that as a cap to it all.

The relief of being finished the term at last is tremendous and happy and floaty. I look forward to a short rest from active enforced schoolwork, and a fresh start to the next.

I will take a couple of days to just relax, if I feel like I need them, and will make a point of prioritizing checking out free available classes at the school's fitness center, and preparing for Pathways Week.

... It's been a good day.

Dear Memory: Trying to Slow Down

I wrote myself a checklist for today which consisted of very little big or taxing, and included leisure as an entry. It has been exams, and I have been dizzy with love and busy with study and unable to get much sleep, as I stay up late and my roommates always wake me with their conversations in the morning.

So I have had a quiet day deliberately for once. I set away my laundry, I enjoyed my tea, I ate leftovers and a shawarma on my way back home from a walk. The snow glitters like tiny flashing stars everywhere. Across the ground and in the air, the world around me shining with pinpoint mirrors, facets on a tiny flake of ice. Craft glitter could never match this, for all that it might be designed as though to try.

I Googled up some podcasts to do with finance and bookkeeping and Irish experience or systems in particular, and listened to one first episode of a couple on my walk. In one of them, the voice of the speaker sounded so similar to my dear friend Coda that I giggled to myself about it. In the other, the accents brought me nodding recognition and a reminder of the lecturer who taught my marketing class in Athlone.

The man at the pizza shop (who made me a shawarma) was good-natured and complimentary, happily chatting to me about all the diverse ingredients that make up the flavour, and shared the basic ingredients in the garlic sauce when I confessed I didn't know how to make it.

Half way along the long stretch of Oxford St. which is bordered in great sports fields and open to the wind, I paused and stared in some wonder at the sky. Lights... Lights on the distant side of the field stretched straight up in gorgeous vertical beams, visible high into the sky, diffuse with gentle auras. Some lights more reddish, others more bluish, and a couple thicker and brighter and yellow. I suppose, the light must have reflected off the sparse falling snow, to show those magnificent beams like pillars or signal lights up into the sky. It was worth stopping to stare at for a while, and I could not help but wish I had you with me to see it and awe at it alongside.

My phone had died of podcast. Its battery is rubbish these days and I hadn't fully charged it before leaving anyway. Otherwise, I would have taken a picture. As it is, I describe it here and encourage anyone who might read this and who lives in a place where it snows to look for the beautiful sight on a night when it is only just snowing in tiny flakes, so you can see into the distance.

I certainly must have overexposed myself to those Elbow songs in the past couple of days. Now I can hardly get them to stop interrupting my thoughts, and I am a little irritated of the feeling, even though they are good songs.

I am trying, for the moment, to calm myself down and return some focus on the present and near future, as much as it is habitual and forever tempting to continue daydreaming of meeting you again. I do not want to overdo it and lose sight of the broader existence and variety, and the options in my life. I hope to continue to find ways to enjoy my time here in more than just waiting for it to be over. I see myself in a broad variety of lights, as a student, a traveler, a romantic, a strong creature going on adventures, a restless youth barely able to pull myself together for an hour or two to study and touch ground between flights of fancy and self-indulgence.

Yesterday I went over to the college for a while just to get out of the house, and wandered into the library. There I found on a rack of books to be returned to the shelves a volume called Celtic Mythology, and I picked it up and sat down and read a while, a description of what disperate and scattered records shed any light at all on the religions and folklore of old Irish and broader Gaul or Gael culture. Records in Greece, observations written by their foes, suggestions in the content and the labels of some various works of art; statues, a cauldron somewhere... I read a brief English summary of the stages in the Book of Invasions.

Although I felt restless and tired and was frequently tempted to return home, my mind was also hungry for this context of some of the scant few things I heard others say while I was visiting, and one bit in particular, a mention of one surviving boat of a migration, which carried fifty women and three men, prompted me to blink to myself in some astonishment. I had heard that story before. Only briefly mentioned in this book, but I had heard a much elaborated version in a book I had read while still living at my mother's house what must have been over ten years ago.

It put me in a keen interest to someday take some time to visit other sites around Ireland, any place which still has symbols or record of these old stories, or special relevance in them, and see what it might inspire me to wonder. I thought, perhaps I could become a scholar of these great old stories someday, perhaps write conjectures on them... That, though, is another big and bold idea. It must be enough for now to be fascinated and pleasantly distracted by them, and keep going about my business of learning business, putting forth however much effort performing well at that must demand of me.

And it must be enough, for now, to bring my writing to a close and wish you and myself a good and restful night.

Dear Memory: Five Years Ago, Three Thousand Miles Away...

It is the day of back-to-back exams from 3 to 7. I slept in to be well-rested, had a shower and a filling but not over-filling breakfast. And I remembered, as I was turning to head out; early, so I could spend a little time studying... I had wanted to listen to something new. I had been thinking I wanted to listen to that weird song you showed me, "An Audience With the Pope". See what else was on that album that I hadn't explored, because the names hadn't caught my attention as much. Your taste in music has rarely failed to interest me.

You might already see where this is going.

So I found the album, and put it on my mp3 player, and listened to the first track while I was crossing the road. Heh, I thought to myself. Well, it's refreshing. I haven't worn out my ears on it yet, and yes I think I might vaguely remember this... Not exactly the thing to want if my purpose had been not to think of you romantically, but then I already knew that.

But there is something I had forgotten about that album, if I ever knew it, that you surely know very well. The next track came on. And I was a bit stunned. The first song I ever heard you sing... Which, at first... I caught the mention of a cigarette and raised my brow at it as I gathered myself up and left your house, the very first time I visited it. In retrospect, with all I know now of that day, and having listened through the fullness of the song again... Well, I guess it may have been well on your mind from the disappointment when you thought I was informing you that I was unavailable.

And so I march on, and appreciate the meaning. It's not the crude encouragement I thought. It makes... sense now. Obsession, memories... They're addictive and habitual.

And then... There is something I had forgotten about that album, if I ever knew it, that you surely know very well. The next track came on. And I was a bit stunned. The song that you had sung to me, along that farm road. I knew there had been one, thoroughly a love song, that I couldn't quite remember. It expressed finding something that had been missing for a long time, but... I couldn't remember how. The melody, everything, was lost to me. I only remembered that you had sung it to me, and I had asked you whether you really felt that way, about me. And you had said yes.

I think I had almost started to convince myself that it had only been Skyscrapers, and I had mis-remembered. But Skyscrapers doesn't say that.

And here it is, to my ear. The same band, the same album, the very next song. A parade of little memories. I am struck with profound appreciation and a sort of reverence. And I'm nine months later, and... Huh. Well, would you look at that.

Dear Memory: Je Pleut

Weather alert: ... It's raining.

For a few days there, it was really cold and windy, and had been snowing a great deal. Yesterday, I think, I walked to the next major intersection and completely wore myself out, because I was sinking up to my mid-calves in snowbank along the way. It's much warmer now, and we have a great deal of melt and thaw and misting rain. It is more like an Irish winter. But there is still lots of snow left.

I... really wish I could talk to you, Eoin. You were in my dream last night, back in Killaloe. The one I grew up in. I dreamed that you had followed me there. I miss you.

I think it's been a little while since I let myself just miss you. It's kind of good to say it again. It's good to imagine talking to you.

I've been doing pretty well. I finished my last quizzes in Intermediate Accounting today, with a 100% and a 83% on my last two. It's... good enough, all things considered. I was mostly doing my accounting work in tax class today, in between paying attention and trial and erroring a bit through reconciliations between net income for accounting and for tax purposes.

I've been singing to myself, from time to time, when my roommates don't seem to be in the house. They come and go a lot, and often together. I have been singing the song I wrote for you, before the silence. I've also been singing "It's Over Isn't It" from Steven Universe. Because it's a really sweet song and I've been rewatching the show. A couple months ago, I couldn't bear to face Garnet. I guess I'm over that now.

Toward the end of the month, there's going to be a week at the school when representatives of other colleges and universities come to advertise their programs, and then a week of recruiting and advertising for summer jobs and career opportunities. I expect to be attending both of them. Especially because... There are some Irish institutions that will be represented there.

I'm making it steadily through my term. I'm doing fine... as far as academic success is concerned. And honestly, I think I'm doing better than I was before in terms of stability too. I've been talking a lot to an old friend of mine I had fallen into an awkward silence with. If we ever do get back into conversation, remind me to tell you about Pyat sometime. I guess that line is inherently more to me than you... but permit me my illusion for a bit.

Reflecting on some things, and at one point being reminded of how I was bullied back in school... I noticed something. Something important. I think something has changed. When I was talking about it, I realized I wanted not to be so angry anymore. I think... I actually believe now, that I don't need to be resentful in order to be myself. In a way that I didn't before. And I think it has a lot to do with you.

I think back again to that scene in the parking lot, and your forgiveness. There's something tremendously powerful in the sight of others. There's a reality that a second perspective lends to things. All the difference between "Am I crazy" and "or is this really here?" is answered by someone else being able to see it too.

No-one else ever seemed to see the difference between myself and the way I've been hurt before, the way you did. And I've been to some counselling. You know, back when I was in Ireland, and continuing to the present. I know it's something that counselors have been trying to condition me to believe for years. And... It's different. It's stirring. To hear myself say it. I could still be just as insightful and amazing if I didn't go hot and cold whenever I remember how isolated I've been.

It's a strange feeling, noticing that difference. It feels... weighty. Not happy or sad, just important, mostly. And kind of... Well, awe-inspiring. I wonder if I will continue to feel that way reliably.

I miss you. I miss you so badly it hurts, and I wish I could tell you how much I want to see you again. I will make it happen, if I can. I just hope you will want to see me again too. It's such a simple thing to say. But the emotions behind it are immense.

One at a time, some fast and some slow, the days march on and on. On Saturday I went to the hospital Emergency area, anxious because the left side of my face was inexplicably numb and tingly. There were some tests. Nothing alarming was found. I came back home. Yesterday I had an exam. Tomorrow I will have two more. I get through it, missing you, looking forward to seeing you again, looking forward to your answer.

The most sensible and effective strategy in general seems to be to act and plan assuming that my plan to return to Ireland succeeds just as I want. That way, my actions will be aligned with my goal, and the future I choose will be reinforced along the way. I'm going to try to enjoy as much of this winter as I can. It might be the last Canadian winter I see for a while, if I have my way. Throughout the coming year, I'm going to have to get rid of a bunch of this junk. I have altogether too much stuff, and it's in the way of unpacking it all and settling in more neatly. There is comparatively so little that I really need, that I really use. I kind of look forward to getting rid of it, although it will take some doing, both physically and emotionally.

Anyway. I... I love you, Eoin. I miss you. So much. And I guess that's about it for me, for now. See you later.

Dear Memory: A Turn to Hope

Today, I did some research into Irish accounting organizations and immigration. I reached out to someone at Fanshawe whose card was given to me by a pathways advisor, and recieved pretty much the best possible news I could have hoped for regarding my plan to return to Ireland.

OSAP does offer support for people studying outside of Ontario, outside of even Canada. There are already a couple of Irish institutions on their list of approved colleges and an appeals process for adding more. I feel... a little embarrassed. I had been so intimidated at the thought of this being difficult that it took me quite some time to really work up the courage and get past the procrastination to do some looking... and find that this may indeed be much easier than I thought.

For most of today I have been in an energetic cloud of hope and happiness. Fantasies rush upon me of announcing on Facebook that I would be returning to Ireland. Of being able to make the journey less than a year from now. Of meeting you again...

Last night, I stayed up late chatting with two of my friends, and we had an awesome conversation, discussing everything from the community management snafu surrounding Roko's Basilisk, some theory on the nature of dimensions and different kinds of infinity... And lots of asides and jokes and... Damn, it's good to have conversations like that. It's been so long. I should get those two to hang out with me more often. ♡

So even though I was woken up early by a roommate's phone call... I didn't really mind. I like my new roommates, and am more inclined to make allowances and feel tolerant towards their impact on my life. Besides, I knew she would be getting up early, and I had stayed up late. It's just a pity these friendly girls will all be leaving in two weeks.

Classes today were fun. Conversation Circles was easy, and as always a valuable exercise in exposure to other cultures. And I even finished my daily checklist. Well, almost; the shop I went to to drop off some electronics for recycling had closed down, but that isn't my own fault; I give myself credit for doing the thing. A setback will require me to do it over again, that's all.

And at the end of the day, I am altogether too proud of myself for a horrible pun I managed to put at the end of my short Microeconomics assignment, about the direct distribution razor company, Harry's, needing to continue to manage their brand positioning as new companies try to copy their distribution model, to maintain their 'edge'.

Visiting Facebook briefly to post a song of the day there which happened to be in my head, I scrolled through my history and paused at your name. I followed it to see a few more recent pictures of you, dear memory. However, I feel it's something I probably shouldn't have done. It felt creepily stalker-ish, although there was really very little to see. I think... Until my plan for return is set up and in motion, I should keep myself away.

When I have my plane ticket, my approval for funding, and it is time to break the silence... When I get the long-awaited treat of greeting you and asking whether you can meet me in a couple of weeks, when I will be there... Ah, hasten the day. Four years, I would despair of. Eight or nine months... I think I can bear with much better grace. Ah, if only. If only you could see me now, perhaps. If only you knew I was coming back for you.

But I am not allowed to tell you, and I cannot know that it would be for the better if I could.
Someday, I will come back, and probably look over any tracks you have left recently as of that time. Hints that you are, or are not, still in Athlone. Hints that you are, or are not, in a new relationship. But that day is a long way off yet. My heart has been crying desperately through much of the day, but not so much in sorrow. It is a desperate, dizzying hope and joy-of-hope, and it repeats: I love you! I love you! I love you!

I must retain my composure, and keep my head about me. My heart, though, flaps about in giddy circles like a bird on a leash. Here, and with my friends, I can speak of it honestly. Here, I dare to express my inner melodrama. Those who do not want it have no reason to come.

Goodnight, distant Memory. I still have not made up for the lost sleep. But I am happy, with the affection of real friends. It is great solace to remember, to experience, that you are not the only one who can listen with love, who can make me laugh, and invite me out to laugh at myself. I am happy, and that is better than sleep. I will catch up on it tonight, or the following night.