I find myself curiously disinterested in blogging much, these days. It's not that I've nothing to rant about--there's always something to rant about--nor am I particularly depressed or anything; it's more a sense of stasis, of precarious balance between one place and another. I have always been partial to those spaces-in-between, so this place I'm in now is in no way unpleasant; but neither is it very exciting from a narrative standpoint.
There's no identity crisis taking place; I know perfectly well who and what I am, perhaps more so now that I've dropped even the faintest pretense of trying to fit any part of me into a box designed for an utterly alien species. There's no crisis of faith; "faith" as it is generally defined has never played much of a role in my existence. I've been immersing myself in Egyptology lately, coming full circle back to that old and abiding passion and finding that I love it now as much as I ever did. I'll shortly be starting up a course in Middle Egyptian, and if the Gods are kind then before complete decrepitude sets in I'll be able to finagle a way to finance the Manchester University program. I won't be pursuing an advanced degree in Egyptology; I'd have to move elsewhere to do so, and frankly I enjoy eating regular meals too much to consider trying to find work in the field. When I'm ever able to return to college, it will most likely be to either continue my psychology/sociology studies, or to move on into anthro; but that's also for later. For now, Middle Egyptian, along with my FOI program (which will culminate in me designing my own course, eventually) will keep me occupied.
It's the absolute height of summer now, hot as all hell, stiflingly humid, everything feeling swollen and ripe not just with possibility but with eventuality, which is even more portentous and thrilling. (I like that my fandom presses that theme, as well: everything happens eventually and nothing happens but first a dream and this all works out in the end.) The end of this month brings the beginning of the harvest season, though in truth it's an ongoing process: fruit drooping eagerly from branches, tomatoes growing plump and heavy day by day, berries falling readily into waiting hands. May the crops, physical and intellectual, that I've been tending so far this year prove to be as succulent at the harvest.