I've been back down to my university town to see the boys I used to play football with, and of course Freshers week. Its four years since I started university. Four years. I feel pangs of regret when I think about it, although this seems to be my standard emotion as I'm always trying to do too much and worrying I've missed out. I had a great time at university, met some fantastic people : some who are sure to be friends for life and others I forgot mere weeks later, and grew exponentially as I was thrust into a foreign city at 18.
I miss it terribly but I'm glad I left when I did, it had lost its sheen and its excitement - the lifestyle not the city. Although I'd love to be a naive 18 year-old and do it all again. But it has got me thinking : are my best years behind me?
Nearly all my best anecdotes come from those three years, I can literally lose hours reminiscing as the narrative in my head (I pity anyone that thought Zach Braff came up with that idea as it means they haven't got one) tells of my and my friends finest hours. Am I gonna have any stories that good again? Basically most of what I have to talk about now is work. Say I get my dream job, I'll still only have work and material possessions to talk about.
What makes living away from home at university so special is that you're living for the moment. Okay the entire reason you're there is an expensive and long-term human capital investment, but you barely remember that as your degree is a mild inconvenience that fills the time between doing anything and everything with your mates. Whereas these days my primary motivators are career progression or money.
I guess what I'm trying to say, in the words of Ray Davies, "Where have all the good times gone?" and will they ever be back? Right now its a struggle to see why I'm doing anything.
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