There are few things in life that I find comfortably stable. It comes, then, at no surprise to people when I tell them about the 8-odd times I moved around during my childhood, or that I routinely sign up for at least 19 or 20 courses every term before settling on a schedule I deem acceptable, or that I’m still trying to sort out the direction my life is going to take this time next year after I’ve graduated.
(For the record, I’m pretty sure that this time next year, I still won’t have an answer.)
But I find myself at ease when I consider some things that never change. The assurance of the sun rising in the morning, no matter how many philosophy courses attempt to persuade me otherwise; that 90+ degree weather is utterly atrocious, and more often than not will lead me to refuse leaving my apartment; that when it comes to good music to listen to on long, solitary drives, no school is better than old school.
And, of course, that my mum’s love of fruit curd brooks no argument.