Kinda strange – a couple of friends have recently revealed, in an awkward, almost-embarrassing-revelation kind of way, that they read this, and hope I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind – it’s stuff I’d tell them anyway, after a conversation gets in depth enough. But the strange bit is that people now know what’s happening in my life before I tell them, already conversant in the latest minor ups and downs and items of interest.

In other news, uni’s back on, my final semester. It’s terrifying in a way – five years since high school, it’ll be, five years. Quick years, fun years, and now wham, I’ll be qualified (presumably), patted on the back and pointed towards the workforce. I might well detour overseas for an extended period of time before braving the job-hunting and eventual job-getting and nine-to-sixing and rearranging my life around an expectation and an income other than an artificial subsidy from centrelink and a job one or two days a week.

I feel nearly ready to leave uni, though, no wish to linger in academia, no desire to stay for any other reason than the people, the wonderful people and the sense of almost community that five years in a place with people like me generates.