diary details: 3.0
mid-year slump.
Tuesday 5th May
I’ve recently become very conscious of the fact I have a whole life ahead of me. Years I have to figure out what to do with. I feel a bit frozen in fear trying to figure out what, exactly, I want to do with my life.
Any ideas I do have, I need to find the courage to execute.
Friday 8th May
I understand Severance. And, if real, genuinely might sign up for it. I understand the whole point of the show is the exploring the ethics of giving half of yourself up like that, but at this point I’ve severed myself already. May as well make it official.
Thursday 21st May
Fucking best and most unexpected and exciting and shocking day of my life.
Saturday 30th May
Life has thrown everything at me all at once. It’s making my average heart rate really fast. I can’t calm down, or think clearly, and that makes everything much more difficult.
Saturday 6th June
I keep having these pre-erotic dreams. In that I’m dreaming about the lead up to sex: knee bumps and lingering stares and flirtatious banter. It’s torturous.
I wake up in a delirium thinking I just went on the best date of my life and he just kissed me on the doorstep and left me wanting more.
Thursday 11th June
I’m in a very Sliding Doors time of my life. Big decisions which can’t really co-exist with one another, as much as I would like them to.
My mum says calling it a Sliding Doors era/moment/whatever is silly because whatever choice I make is the only choice—there is no alternate universe where I make the “right” decision and therefore live a different life.
And yet, it feels distinctly like I am choosing a specific path for myself. A lot like how if I never discovered One Direction I wouldn’t be a feminist.
Sunday 14th June
I used to be really good at being alone without feeling lonely. I even once argued with a date about the difference between “alone” and “lonely.”
Since hitting my mid-twenties, however, loneliness is more easily felt. If I don’t say hello to someone in the morning, or move wordlessly around a kitchen with someone at night, I start to think I’m going a little insane.
In other feelings, chilly but sunny weather is sure to make me feel morose and . Like how September makes me feel like my dad has just died again.
Tuesday 16th June
Preferring winter to summer (or spring, even) is unreasonably shameful. Like, why am I hesitant to tell someone I enjoy cold weather? As if it’s one of the top five signs of a sociopath, or something.
I just prefer wearing jeans to shorts. And jumpers to singlets. I sleep so much better when I’m cocooned in flannelette sheets and a heavy quilt.
Saturday 20th June
I have very few thoughts at the moment.
This might be tied to the total lull I’ve had in reading. Little is going, and therefore little is coming out. I’ve been making my way through Lena Dunham’s memoir for about a month. And it’s not that it’s bad—she’s a great writer, and has had an interesting life—it’s that I simply can’t read more than about 5 pages at a time.
When I don’t think as much it’s like surrendering to an oblivious life. If I’m not careful, soon the greatest thing I’ll use my brain power for is email sending, and that’s repulsive.
In my teenage journals I used to write down every song I ever liked. There’s a playlist on my Spotify with approximately 1,800 songs with (nearly) all these songs. It’s called diary details, hence the new title of the blogs where I spew my guts.
get more of me here:
IG: @usingmyphd or @georgiannicholls
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