On The Road Again

The Ox is packing. He's leaving up north tomorrow, for a week till the end of CNY. There are several things that require his attention up there, and some of them are very close to his heart (plus they won't be here for long). So as usual, he's trying to stuff FAR too many clothes inside a single bag while wondering at the same time: where did the time go?

He's a little worried. The clock's ticking, and he needs to rush his PhD application (not to mention possible sources of funding) as soon as possible if he wants to leave before June. Right now the single overriding fear in his mind is that he'll muck up and lose this window of opportunity. It stays close to him, this fear, always in the corner of his eye. And he knows more than anything he needs to get moving faster and get more results. "Focus, Ash. Focus" he chants like a mantra, hoping it'll help him clear his mind and draw a bead on what he really wants (or perhaps what he THINKS he wants).

He's scared. But he also knows that no-one can do this for him. He needs to finish this once and for all, and maybe the other thing will sort itself out. The Ox truly doesn't know. There are dreams to be chased (even if they are ultimately only shadows and dust) and some semblance of happiness (perhaps). So he'll walk/run/swim/fly, simply because he has to.

And perhaps more accurately, because he wants to.
Good luck, me.