I've always written or bragged about being someone who can handle change, maybe even someone who thrives on change, and maybe I used to be. Used to be. I've got to know what it is to be me more than ever before this past academic year and I've got my safe routines; I always take my pills at my locker, I always give Kayleigh a hug and walk round the school before classes start. I always go to the Candie Store to get lunch, then go to the gym and then home for a shower. These are all tiny things but they're things I've come to rely on. I don't mean I'm never spontaneous; there's nothing better than a piece of cake in Pelicans or a wander round the shops with my girls.
What do I do now? Find new routines when I'm working here there and everywhere? Find a new place to eat lunch while I'm travelling? Fit revision and clearing out my room into the day to day business of surviving?
It might seem like I'm exaggerating all this and maybe I am, it's just today though that I realised change isn't always that great. And while change might be great when I have the choice, when it's thrust upon me I don't feel comfortable with it. I haven't planned for it.
One day at a time then, I suppose