There’s something about Maltese summers which I find stagnant and stagnating. It could be the humidity; the sticky heat which surrounds us each year without fail, making hair ‘poof’, make-up run, and tempers flare. It could be the small size of our little piece of the mediterranean (or rather, the concentration of people on it). It could just be me. It’s probably just me.

Recently, I’ve found myself using (and thinking about) the word ‘eventually’ a lot. I’ll go live abroad – eventually. I’ll decide on what I want to do after I graduate – eventually. I’ll learn a new language – eventually. I’ll get that job I’ve always wanted – eventually. I’ll cut down on chocolate – eventually. The list of promises thus far unfulfilled is indeed endless. Why the endless postponement? Why don’t I just ‘do’ instead of ‘plan’? Whenever I bring myself to ask and answer that question, I keep coming back to the same answer. Thesis. University. Thesis. Graduation. Thesis. Deadlines. I feel like it’s the last checkpoint on the border between student life and ‘real’ life, between who I am and who I’m going to be. It’s a big, scary, monster standing in the way of me and my freedom.

Or is it?

Will things be any different once I’ve submitted this thing? Will I actually do anything or will I return to the persistent postponement or complacency which I see all around me?

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