Sunny day

I hate being depressed. I could be going through the exact same crap this time last month, but for some unknown reason I freak out over it. I woke up at 5.30am this morning. I never do that. I want to leave my course so much, but if journalism isn’t what I want then what is it? Therin lies the crux of my problems.

I can’t be on time for things, I can’t even try. It’s like my subconscious ensures it every time. If I say to myself I’ll get the 1.30 bus, I’ll end up on the 2.30. I’ve stopped talking to everyone, I’ve completely ignored any contact from Mayve even though she’s texted me lots of times this week. I just stop and stare and I feel so tired.

There’s a huge sign in a field near the centre of the suburb. For some strange reason, it’s surrounded by housing estates but was never built on. The sign proclaims, however, that there’ll be a Tesco (Americans: think K-Mart) there in “Spring 2003”. A Tesco. How strange. I’ve never thought of this town as a place one would find a branch of something in, but there you are. The sign also says something “[Name of town] New Town Centre – A centre for living”. It’s like Delta City in Robocop; they’re going on about it for years. Now it’s arriving. The future is here. My future is here; I’ve never ever looked beyond 2002.

I got on the late bus into town today. It was so bright outside, and you could almost fool yourself inside the warm bus that it was summer. Buildings appeared black in the haze and everything passed me by in a blur. I can never look beyond anything usually, but in the little pipe-dreams one has I’ve never thought of life beyond 2002. And maybe that’s what I’m worrying about. It’s all very well saying “live for each day”. But maybe I should start thinking ahead for once.

j