And so he does.
As I walked to work from the railway station yesterday morning, I was aware that the Olympic flame would be making an appearance in central Milton Keynes at some point, but I wasn’t sure when. A friend rather close to the cause suggested I look up the flame’s (The Flame’s?) route via an app – something which I would ordinarily do – but I was pleased to be able to locate it via more analogue means: blue flashing lights, a hovering helicopter, and hordes of people waving and cheering.
As luck would have it, the flame was being carried directly past my place of work, and as I climbed some steps to the road level, I caught a glimpse of the fire which symbolises so much (or so little, depending on your belief system).
I felt rather chuffed, actually, that I had made no attempt to seek out such a spectacle, and yet there it was, on my (work) doorstep. I fired off a shot (see above) to Instagram, and made it into work only three minutes or so later than I normally would.
The above quote, incidentally, was from some unknown child in the crowd, remarking upon the torchbearer’s facial fuzz.
The reason I tell you this silly little story is that it feels like a neat analogy for my life recently.
For one reason or another, I feel as though I have been exceedingly lucky.
My life has gone through some huge changes in a relatively short space of time.
I’ve finished university, done my final exams, gone on one of the best holidays I’ve ever had, moved house, gone from living with my best friend to my significant other (and her sister!), changed cities, got myself a Perfect Job and received a 2:1 classification for the degree I’ve spent the last four years of my life working on.
It’s been a stressful few weeks. I’ve had moments when I’ve literally not had a clue where I am – imagine jetlag, but with both space and time. It’s confusing. I call it placelag. Or something.
Anyway, the point is, everything seems to be going… rather well. It’s one of those typical times where there is shedloads to talk/write about, and very little time to actually do so.
In my recent final year research project, I asked diarists about their habits, and one of the common themes was that it’s often when we are busiest that we find it hardest to find the time to write about it.
One of life’s cruel ironies.
But, suffice it to say, everything’s going alright just now. I have a lot of things to write about. A lot of photographs to upload and sort – and a lot more to take.
The next task is finding the time to fit it all in.