There’s something about August

I visited this blog after aaaaagggges and what struck me was how there are these weird annual patterns in my life. December is when I’m happy, but also sad, but mostly just happy. March if when I’m struck with this weird bout of pointless creativity and passion about things like, say, which Westeros house I would be in. And August is when I have some kind of upheaval marked with stress, tension and my own special brand of Birthday Anxiety (TM). Think about it:

In 2012, first half of August I was waiting on my scholarship, second half, on my visa, and the last few days just going crazy with anticipation and fear about Edinburgh.
in 2013, I moved out of dorms into Mina’s place, I had no job, I was worried about my future, and afraid I’d flunked the dissertation (WHICH I WROTE IN SEVEN FREAKING DAYS). All my friends were leaving and it was stressful AF.

OK, then 2014. New job, back in India, relatively adjusted etc what have you. But i was EXTREMELY lonely at that point. Lonely and confused and severely over-worked and underpaid. Not liking adult life. Plus, my office shifted to a new location at the end of August which was kind of a big change at the time, for me.

Fast forward to 2015…and it’s a doozy. Leaving my current Dickensian (or maybe just plan Dickish) job for a gig at Le Accenture, your average top 10 MCBC corporate firm (eeeeyuppp they did not think those initials through for their Indian branches). I’m basically selling my soul and my time and my body, probably (for corporate experiments not sex GET YOUR MIND outta the gutter). God knows what kind of people will be there and if I’ll like it at all. Might suck at the work too.

But the money is great and it’s a good place-holder kinda job so yay me.

I dunno. What I really want is one birthday, just one, where I’m not full of anxiety about where my life is going, who my friends are, if anybody loves me at all, and whether or not I’ve wasted my life so far.

Just, like, 1 birthday like this. Without drugs. Please?

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