yesterday afternoon

It did hit me, though now I must say that I’m doing OK. It happened yesterday and only lasted a few minutes. I had gone out for breakfast with Kenny and Michelle and afterwards went to Concordia and McGill to pick up some books. Actually, I went to Concordia and seeing that one of the books on my list isn’t part of their collection, I headed towards McGill. They tend to complement each other like that. McGill indeed has two copies of the needed book, neither of them on loan right now and neither of them on the bookshelves, a recurring theme for me in University libraries, especially at McGill. I was about to head out when I noticed all these drenched people walking in the foyer. It was pouring outside. Much like a summer rain storm except without the heat and humidity to be relieved of. I decided to pass out the storm not quite comfortably seated on the side-railing of the windowed walk-way that links the library to the study hall. And this is where it hit me. I was thinking of Roxanne who I saw the night before. Roxy’s going to law school in the fall. And I was looking at this girl in the walk-way on her cell phone. A nice looking girl. Her school bag had the U of Ottawa’s logo on it with ‘MBA.’ And that’s when it hit me: “What am I doing? What will I do next? I’m lost. I have no career. No plans for one. And I’m almost 30. I have no money and I’m only getting older.” Panic. The panic of a student who cannot let go, remembering everything you’re supposed to know and yet try hard to forget: by my age, I should be settled with a career, a larger flat and planning for babies. But who says? Who’s whispering this in my ear? If only it weren’t for that dread that I’m sure eats at all of us, all of you, from time to time; the dread that somewhere we did something wrong. Took a wrong turn. But where? I can’t think of it! So why do I panic?

It actually only lasted a few minutes. In my old age I’m getting wiser, such a consolation. I pulled myself together and rationalized: “You’re just thinking this way ‘cause your semester's over. It’s the void. It came. It’ll go. You know you’re OK and that all will be fine.” Reassured, I pushed myself off the side-railing, popped open my umbrella and walked out into the rain. I took the bus home reminding myself that endings always offer up new beginnings.