I dont think i actually did a post proper on my January maldives diving trip. I suppose I will, one day. Not today. Today is closing on a rather exhausting note: a late morning start because of a book I just could not put down last night, a series of work related hijinks, bashing through the bramble of my thesis-in-progress, and then the last three hours of my night, spent paying respects (but more so just being there for a friend) at a wake. It all seems so grown up and adult. I miss the times when my greatest worry was bumping into a pufferfish or stepping on coral underwater, while simultaneously holding the knowledge that the sentiment is fluff and nostalgia. I like being grown up, part of me does, because being grown up comes with benefits like freedom and age-related respect and money. But I like my adulting doled out in small, manageable doses. Not the type where people try and fail to pay for mortgages and stress about where to live and also, the type where people get old, and expire at the exact moment when you realise the gravitas of death.

I remember the statistical truth of once having felt that I had it all put together, but i no longer feel the reality of the truth. Perhaps this is thesis, stage four, talking. But surely it has gone on for too long. Is there ever a point where you wake up and think that you’ve got it all figured out? I laugh at my younger self who felt like I did, once: it now seems naive. Perhaps it is that, at also the 1am ennui pressing itself upon me. Another thing: the imposition of age, the wearing down of invincibility. I now feel it in my bones, a grumbly protest, whenever it hits midnight, like some perverse reverse cinderella. My greatest goal now is to nap my life away. And from, you know, chats, conversations, confessions, it seems that this goal is not specific to me but to the stage of adulthood in general.

ah. happy days in the sun.