It's finally the summer holidays, and one of the many perks of working in further education is that I actually get nine glorious weeks where the alarm clock and I can politely ignore each other.
This was supposed to be my time to relax.
Read a few books.
Drink alarming amounts of coffee.
Generally embrace my natural habitat... indoors.
Instead, I've somehow become one with the garden.
Well, I say "garden". It's more of a large brown area that vaguely remembers being grass. The lawn is currently sporting at least ten different shades of beige, brown and disappointment. Every time I water it, the weather laughs at me. Every time I cut it, it looks offended.
In all fairness, I don't think I've ever voluntarily spent this much time outdoors in one go. Usually, if someone suggests fresh air, my first response is, "Can I take my coffee inside afterwards?"
I'm an indoor sanctuary kind of person. Give me a comfy chair, a decent mug of coffee and absolutely no insects. Yet here I am, building an outdoor sanctuary that I'll almost certainly admire... from the kitchen window.
Progress, I suppose.
After finally escaping the garden this morning, I sat down at my laptop to make another series of entirely rational decisions.
I selected my next Open University modules.
Now, most sensible people might choose a manageable workload.
Maybe 60 credits.
Maybe ease themselves gently into the next academic year.
Not me.
I've signed myself up for 120 credits.
One module is on Revolutions, because apparently learning about centuries of political upheaval sounded relaxing.
The other?
Latin.
With an exam.
Because clearly I looked at my life and thought, "You know what this needs? Declensions."
Have I bitten off more than I can chew?
Almost certainly.
Will future me be questioning present me's life choices around week six?
Without a doubt.
Will I still convince myself it was a brilliant idea?
Also yes.
That's the funny thing about being a mature student. We don't wait for life to calm down because, quite frankly, it never does. There are jobs, families, gardens that refuse to stay alive, washing that breeds overnight, DIY projects, pets, appointments and about a thousand other reasons to say, "I'll start next year."
If I waited until life was quiet, I'd probably never study again.
So instead, I throw myself into the glorious chaos.
I actually quite like it.
There's something strangely satisfying about juggling deadlines, discovering fascinating new topics and occasionally wondering why on earth Romans needed so many endings for the same word. It keeps my brain alive, gives me something to aim for and provides endless entertainment for anyone watching me attempt to revise Latin while surrounded by a garden that's slowly turning into the Sahara.
So that's my summer.
Part-time gardener.
Full-time coffee enthusiast.
Soon-to-be student of revolutions and a language that hasn't exactly been trending recently.
Will it be chaotic?
Definitely.
Will it be worth it?
Ask me after the exam.
Until then, I'll be alternating between watering grass that has already accepted its fate and learning a language spoken by people who've been dead for about two thousand years.
As life choices go, it probably isn't the easiest route.
But then again...
I'm not dead yet.