The term ended on last Friday (eta: March 13).
I typed down the sentence above, paused, and let it stare back at me. The sense of finality has yet to kick in, but the sense of surreality is surely kicking me in the butt.
Hillary is over?!
Pretty much every conversation I’ve partaken in or overheard since Week 5 started with, ‘I can’t believe it’s now ___th week…’ ‘How come it’s March already?!’ My brain has problem registering the linear passage of time while caught up in the cyclical routine that repeats itself every week. Like spinning a huge ball of yarn, it seems to go on forever until all of sudden there is this last bit of the thread that slips out of your finger before you hold onto it.
Plus, it is disorienting how elastically time stretches here. During term time every day seems to zoom by incredibly fast; anything that took place longer than two days ago feels like ages. I think quantum physicists are on the money for saying that from the perspective of any observer, everything else in the universe is constantly moving from him/her, and that the further away things are, the faster they recede. Don’t quote me on it, though; I took one intro course on astronomy that was, in Oxford years, a millenium ago.
I guess I have indeed been here for a long time, long enough to see legendary pubs – Fare thee well, Far From the Madding Crowd – close down and new shops pop up, even recognize the same salespeople at the various stores they work on different days of the week. Having traveled the entire break, it feels immensely comforting to finally be back, and to fall instantly into the familiar groove. It’s been a long time, for sure.