This eternal summer is finally nearing its end.
The days of long, oppressive heat are finding their conclusion.
Obviously I’m using metaphors. I count four days of hot weather here in the UK, which is six more than average.
“Mate, it’s October. Summer finished ages ago.”
Let me explain.
My summer started all the way back in June. Once my last exam for my final year at university had been completed, I was free. Free to enjoy an indefinite amount of freedom. There weren’t any more lectures, exams, or projects to go back to. After four years of hard work and late nights, everything was finally finished. I could rest.
For four days.
The following week, I started my internship at the university. I wanted something to keep me busy and an excuse to keep me away from home. Spending endless days at home playing PS4, watching Netflix and eating chicken didn’t really appeal to me. Thankfully, the internship provided an alternative for a few months. But throughout that time I was searching for a permanent job because everything eventually comes to an end. I was incredibly anxious about this. It was so prevalent how this simple student life was going to soon end and I would be forced to get a real job, pay my own bills and potentially even live on my own. So I made job searching my top priority. (Purely by keeping it at the forefront of my mind, not by actively applying for jobs.)
Then came results day. The day I would find out if I was even in a position to be looking for a job. I wasn’t all that hopeful. I was certain my dissertation would cause my inevitable failure. But, I had it all wrong. That dissertation would cause my inevitable success. Now, armed with a certified degree, I explored options beyond looking for jobs that I could embark on next. The idea of doing a masters crept into my mind. After discovering I’d actually achieved decent results, getting an MSc seemed a little more possible and potentially even enjoyable. I put in my application to the university almost immediately. And waited.
Maybe I was naÏve to think that they would just give me the place on the course. But I thought since I was applying at the same university, they could just look up my details, see my shiny degree certificate and be done with it all. Instead, I was kept waiting for weeks. I put everything else on hold, certain that this was going to be my next step. But after my internship had finished, that same certainty had diminished into a single speck of ’whatever happens, happens’. It frustrated me when I left to go back home, that I couldn’t give my friends a definite date of when I would be back, or if I would even be back at all.
At home, the summer dragged. It was now the middle of August. Every day felt the same: play PS4, watch Netflix, eat chicken. I would vary the days slightly by occasionally acknowledging the people I live with (you know, my family) but even that wasn’t enough. I missed my friends, I missed the feeling of waking up and actually having something to do. In the meantime, my peers were out getting jobs, starting businesses and preparing for pHDs. It was discouraging seeing what looked like everyone but me succeed and embrace new adventures with their lives. Almost like how every week my social media feeds get flooded with ‘engaged’, ‘pregnant’, ‘married’, ‘in a relationship’, all whilst I sit around at home, forming an unhealthy and questionable attachment to material possessions and grilled poultry. Pathetic, right? But I was so sold on the inevitably of my masters, that I didn’t do anything else. For me, the summer holiday would continue until I started that course.
Just as I was lost feeling sorry for myself, I received an email entitled:
“Congratulations, you have been made an offer.”
It was from the university. I was ecstatic. God had pulled through! Finally, I could start my life again. There were some instructions to follow including formally accepting the offer, completing some forms, and the insignificant matter of paying a little £2000 deposit within two weeks…
How am I going to afford this?
The short answer is I couldn’t. I didn’t have a spare £2000 just laying around.
Just as I was lost writing some fire code 🔥, I received a phone call.
“Congratulations, we’d like to have you come down for an interview.”
I was shocked in a way. A good amount of time had been spent waiting for a response from them also. But at the same time, I was expectant. Finally, an opportunity had presented itself to put an end to this unending season. October was edging closer. I grasped the opportunity and with that came an almighty buzz. However, at the interview the following week, I felt as though my performance was average at best. I answered all their questions, maintained eye contact and even threw in a couple of jokes about baking, but when they mentioned they’d seen some other ‘really good candidates’, I sunk. I doubted myself. I even began to draft a blog post about how I wasn’t going to let that keep me down. I went to bed that night with the intention I’d wake up the following morning and apply for more jobs.
Instead, I woke up that morning and decided to go out to town to buy some stuff. It felt colder than usual. When I came home I even told my Dad to wear a jacket before he goes out.
Just as I was lost, for real this time, I received a phone call.
“Hello, I’m just calling about your interview you had with us yesterday.
Well, It’s good news!
They really liked you and so, we’d love to offer you the job.
I couldn’t believe it. My only reaction was to praise God. When I told my mum she screamed.
With this chilled breeze in the air, my eternal summer has finally ended.