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Was feeling so inspired when I sat down to write...but Dan’s music selection has switched to some damn thing with a 6-minute guitar solo. After asking who the hell it is, as a good journalist must do, I know it is Stephen Malkmus. Now Dan is singing along...I find this little ditty to be less potent, more grating, than Sam Cooke and Otis. You remember Otis---the man surrounding the pipes that crooned “These Arms of Mine.”

I was trying to describe to Dan earlier how I feel here in Cardiff. After the brief description, he said, “you feel alive.” And I guess I do. I walk outside, through the park, and I feel good. I feel so happy to be here, to be doing something new, to be reading news like a fiend. I also have downs, and they can be dramatic. Last night I had a brief but powerful surge of dread...dread of how much news reading I should do today, of the homework assignment due Thursday, of the uncertainty of what will happen in the weeks ahead. I woke this morning with similar fears. I didn’t even get out of bed immediately, just because I was intimidated by the day itself.

But only a few hours later, after reading, reading, reading the Financial Times weekend edition (this turned out to be a 2-day project), I started to feel that breathlessness again...the happy one. The one that reminds me of possibilities ahead. I’m in Europe. I’m a student. I will soon have a brain worth millions...ok, just kidding. But I can buy a plane or train ticket and go to Paris for a weekend. I can go to Russia if I want to. I need to choose an interesting place in eastern Europe on which to focus a dissertation. The general topic so far is this: Eastern Europe and women/girls and education. Coming along well, is it not?

At the very least, I’m feeling things. I’m feeling dread, but the dread varies. It’s a nice change from the daily dread of going to work. And I feel hope again. I feel the kind of hope that will inspire me to complete my coursework, to meet people from all over the world, to write a dissertation on some damn topic I find intriguing, and, in the end, to find a job that inspires me. To have the confidence and hope to lease my brain and talent to an employer who may not exploit these aspects of myself and give me nothing but low self-esteem and shitty pay in return.