Now I'm everywhere that your iPod goes

Diary of a Mature Student: Tomorrow, I left Yesterday

I know, that's strangely Zen for a film student's blog.

In the event, I had kind of an odd experience today. The only way I can really explain it is that it was the psychic - or maybe psychological - equivalent of a static shock.

But even with the psychological component, there was a real, physical, mini-jolt of adrenaline, the kind of jolt I haven't experienced for a l-o-n-g time.  

The cause of all this? Seeing someone I used to work with in a supermarket.

Now, it's coming up to two years since I left my previous life, two years of enthusiasm, disappointment, summertime spent claiming benefits, you know, the usual fun. But this person was like my antimatter duplicate back in the (working) day; everything I was, she was the opposite, like a skewed mirror creating the image of two polar opposites.

So, at the same age, she was married, with children, and living in a house the family owned, and did all the normal social things like going out, drinking, etc.

By contrast, I'm still nowhere near the property ladder - although I've come to view this as a good thing, tangentially - with no partner (because even a marketing genius couldn't sell this package, to be honest) and, naturally no children. Instead of doing the social thing, I've basically been studying, on and off, since Space 1999. Even after the first ride on the merry-go-round, I did some night school, and then some postgraduate work sponsored by various entities, and now I'm suddenly two years down on a three year undergraduate course, and I'm wondering; should I just have got a proper job back in 2003?

Don't get me wrong, the work I had was a 'proper' job, but it was unlikely to lead anywhere. And it did pay for some fun courses - I can now give training on how to lift heavy objects, which sounds more like a superpower than it nominally should. But in terms of real, tangible benefits? Well, I got an iPod using my severance package, and a kick-ass DVD collection, and probably various clothes, books etc, but anything other than the cultural plankton net that my life is? Bricks and mortar? Stocks and shares? ISAs and Savings accounts?

Not so much.

And the shock of seeing her after two years was so visceral, and strange, that I couldn't even contemplate wandering over and saying Hi. It would have just been too, too strange, somehow. Because it was a shock - not a pleasant 'oh hey, there goes (X) who I used to work with - rather than a recognition.

I wouldn't give up what I've done over the last two years for anything, especially the people I've met, but my past life seems too long ago and too far away, now, except for the random skill set I've been trained into using.

And now, as the lone and level sands of the summer stretch off into the distance, I'm wondering, as I sometimes do, about the nature of temporality and, equally, how pretentious typing the phrase 'the nature of temporality' sounds. But still, times, things and people change - although the latter is debatable - and I don't know if my twenty-year old self would recognise me now. I like to think he wouldn't, because then I could creep up and smack the bastard upside the head for being such a strange little island of a person.

I have mixed feelings about my past and the things I've done. On one hand, some things I loathe, because the mixture of youth and inexperience bred a misplaced total self-confidence.

On the other hand, I think I need it, because without the past to push against, I wouldn't be how I am now.

And there's a thought to leave y'all on. Learn from your mistakes, because if you don't, you'll keep making them. If you do, you can learn, grow and evolve, so that you can start making all new mistakes.

And isn't that exciting?