And then there was 8th week

I am now in the midst of 8th Week - the final week in an Oxford term. This is actually the 14th week I've been here, but that's superfluous. I wrote my last essay, attended my last "How to Write a Poem" lecture and had my final C. S. Lewis tutorial. I have a little less than a week to research, outline and compose a 4000 word essay on the influence of Jane Austen's family on her early writings. Can we say lack of motivation? Oh yes, we can, though I do like the topic I chose and will probably find much joy in carrying out the essay so to speak. 8th week has more than its fair share of "lasts." It was my last week cooking for my food group (chicken and wild rice soup, amazing). It was the last week of SCIO lectures and tea. It will be my last week attending OICU's free Friday lunch (and theological talk), last run through the parks, the last week of Discuss, the last week of volunteering at St. Andrew's and watching the door as I do each Tuesday morning. Perhaps even my last trip to Primark to envy the clothing I wish I could justify purchasing.

As it is the "last week" I've justified quite a few excursions. Monday I attended a performance of Mozart's requiem that my roomate Bethany took part in. Afterwards she, Alicia and I had a final roomie night at the White Horse. Mulled wine is good, but drinks are just way too expensive. Still, I agreed to go out and get shots of Absinthe on Tuesday night. The stuff is strong, but the flavor was pretty nasty in my opinion. After paying 4.20 I was pretty disappointed that there wasn't even a buzz to follow. Wednesday was amazingly relaxing. I had a tutorial, grocery shopped, went to a lecture and made dinner. Jonathan brought home our Crickmas tree, which is decked with lights and sitting in the common room, awaiting the joys to come Sunday night. I've begun playing Christmas music and take great delight in all the decor that is being put up around town. Hurray for Christmas. Tonight I went to a performance of Handel's Messiah at the beautiful chapel of University College. We headed to the King's Arms afterwards for some light-hearted chit chat.

As the semester draws to a close I find myself struggling with trying to live here and knowing I need to head back to the States. My inbox, like my head, is a jumble of messages about next semester and wrap up notices for the term concluding. I've kept most of my life in the States a good distance from life here and the two are meshing once more. I spent a day or two wondering what this time here has meant, how I've changed, if I've changed, what I've learned, if I've learned and so on and so forth. I came to Oxford with few expectations, other than expecting that the experience itself would change me in some way. My one fear is that this one expectation will not be realized. But the more I think about it, the less I live in the present and that is what I need to be doing, what I want to be doing. And with that I am off to live in the present.