Better, that is. Things are every slightly but not much better. I’ve now met four of my flatmates, though I only managed to introduce myself to three. They’re all from exotic places like Thailand or Singapore so I, being the stupid American, can’t remember their names for the life of me. Oh well, I’ll have to work on that. I don’t interact with them much though, aside from a “hello” in passing. That, and my next door neighbor’s phone keeps vibrating, and I keep thinking I’ve got a text, only to sadly remember that I don’t even have a phone (though I have plans to get one).
I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice to say that the Induction Briefing was moderately pointless, Induction/Enrolment day was hellishly stressful and over-informative (at least I slept well that night), and since then I’ve had random things to do in the morning and little to do but put off reading in the afternoon. I have a ridiculously long To-Do list (that keeps growing), but at least I have internet in my room, food in my (part of) the fridge, and today’s required reading done (well, what I required of myself anyway).
I still find the horrible feeling that this was the wrong decision creeping up on me now and then. I miss home terribly and the prospect of my program is daunting (to say the least). Next week we start courses, so we’ll see how that goes. As per my fears that the Book History program is too academic next to the straight Publishing MA’s practicality, I’ve at least managed to get myself into their Editorial Management course via an independent study. Still, I appear to be shut out of Design and Production, and I think there’s a Marketing course they’re keeping to themselves as well…At least now I’m a little excited about my courses, and the hope of an internship and eventual job. And I’m resigned to continue to make myself go to “networking” social events in the hopes that someday I’ll be better at them.
I had lunch and a good conversation with Tamara on Wednesday. She did an expert job at calming my fears (albeit temporarily) about my program, and it was at that point that I finally admitted to myself that I’m staying. Prior to that moment, every second thought was throwing a few of my things into a bag and GOING HOME. But I’m here now, and going home isn’t really an option. What would I do? I can say I’d be content to work a mediocre job and write, but I know all too well that I would hate that job and never manage to write anything of consequence.
So I’ll stay, and I’ll do my reading and my to-do list and I’ll Skype everyone, because I miss you all terribly, and I’ll pretend you’re just in the other room or a car ride away. And maybe, eventually, I’ll be able to be as excited about and grateful for “this opportunity” as everyone seems to think I should be.
