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Two Years Apart: A Reflection and Growth (Hopefully)

In 2018, Amber was 20 years old, in her second year of uni and living in a student house with her current housemate, her housemate's ex and our mutual friend. Her routine consisted of getting up far too early, walking 25 minutes to the train station (because she hated getting the bus), travelling to uni on the train and either attending lecture or sitting in the library for most of the day.

She was deeply in love with her university course, which just involved reading books and watching films, and then analysing them with other people who also loved doing those things. Her love of poetry and writing felt in its infancy and proficient at the same time. Her course had opened her eyes to how she could be doing better. To how she become a professional. And yet she wouldn't show it to anyone.

Her weekends were either drinking in the kitchen with her housemates or travelling to her parent's house every other weekend, because she was struggling to cope with the fact that she no longer lived in her family home. This was fine though. Being a student is like being an adult adjacent - you don't have to know what you want to do because there is no actual pressure to be a grown up. Having no clue what you want to do or how you want to live after uni is actually expected of you. You have the freedom of mobility. You have the freedom of ignorance.

Her most hated moments would be intermittent mental health crises, what seemed like the worst at the time. If only she knew.

Her favourite moments would be going to the cinema during the day by herself. Taking as much time to cook as you want. Coming home at 2pm, taking off all her clothes and just lying in bed until she needing get up to make her tea.

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In 2020, I will be 22 in August. I am supposedly a young professional, with her first job, currently on hold due to the pandemic. I am currently living in a house my housemate used to rent with her ex. Under normal circumstances, I would travel about an hour to get to work and an hour back. I spent most of my time in the office or on a train platform - my weekends were dedicated to catching up on sleep.

Honestly, this entire year so far has made it quite hard to feel like an adult at all. I spent the first part of this year stressing about my job and being so intent to quit, and the second part of it panicking because the future of my career seemed so uncertain.

My writing had improved greatly but it has remained private. Whilst I think I'm writing the best things I've ever written, showing them to people is still quite hard. That being said, I am compiling a poetry collection. And I'm writing this blog, which so far I'm quite proud of.

My weekends, as I've said, were dedicated to catching up on sleep under normal circumstances. I would also still travelling to my parent's house every other weekend. Obviously both of these have been put on halt. Currently, my weekends consists of me binging films or (on a rare occasion) drinking with my housemate.

I still have no clue what I'm doing or what I want to do. I still don't feel like an adult. I feel like an toddler who owns office trousers.

I think it would be hard to pick a most hated moment. Most of this year has been a hated moment. Even before the pandemic, I dreaded just going to work to be yelled at by my boss. Waking up in the dark and travelling home in the dark. To only have 2 hours of free time before I had to go to bed and to have spend that time making food and doing chores that I didn't manage to do the day before. Some of my most hated moments in quarantine though are just the random moments of panic, of uncertainty about the future, of frustration with my country's response to the pandemic. It's been hard, which is difficult to admit because I know it could be worse.

My favourite moments currently are the small ones. I really like the hours between 11pm and 4am because I have no obligation to be doing anything. Granted, I spend a lot of this time scrolling through nonsense but that is my time. This pandemic has further made me jaded to the concept of productivity. I like being able to do what I want with no consequences.