3A ended and I was glad to see it go.
I’m struck by my present indifference to those 4 months. I’m surprised because in San Diego I struggled to deal with the fallout of that term. I’m surprised because I can’t think of another topic outside of work that occupied so much of my time, my energy. My life.
The term started with a bang. My job at DRDC had been productive, enjoyable and extremely satisfying. I’d forged strong connections with my coworkers and we’d spent many a lunchtime over heated conversations. It was a job I truly regretted letting go. 2B, reputedly the hardest CompEng term, had left me with an average north of my expectations and with the exception of Kay I can’t think of anything distasteful about that term. I remember studying for midterms and finals; I remember football, barbeques, cookouts and nights spent playing Halo. I remember balance.
I had a formula. Waterloo could be beaten.
In a fit of hubris I made my first major error. Geoff – who’d departed from Comp after the 2A term – returned for a work term in Cambridge. An 8 month hiatus had not dented our friendship and the three of us – Allister, Geoff and I – looked forward to the coming months. The allure of fun hung in the air.
In a stunning lack of foresight I did not set limits.
I’m not sure what to chalk this down to.
Wishful thinking? Maybe.
Whatever it was, I’d started to walk towards that edge.
Geoff had none of the concerns we had. After work his evening lay open and activities were his for the choosing. No classes to study for, no coop to prepare for, no projects to complete; he was as available as we were busy. I remember the phone calls he made, asking us whether we’d be free for a bit.
Play a little Gamecube? Cook? Talk? Heck, we were only too glad to ‘un-busy’ ourselves.
What were we thinking? What was I thinking?
The consequences were immediate. There are only so many hours you can wile away before work starts to suffer and you start to slip behind. I noticed it. And I was silent.
[To be continued]