By Tomek Wojcik
Scabbing for the first time feels good. It may be just a mere aftertaste in comparison with the thrill I felt when I was accepted as a SCA student.
Life changes fast. Not long ago I was living my dreary life in an IT department. Something was not right. Something was missing from my life. The rush. The longing for satisfaction. More adventure. Self-realization unfulfilled. And Thoreau’s words rumbling in my head: “Most people live the life of quiet desperation”. I finally acted. Made life changing decision. Got to NZ. Had an escapist plan to leave it all behind. And when I embarked on the carefree journey I found the quality I was looking for. It clicked in the ways I never felt about myself. Change is good and I totally embrace it.
SCA is a choice I made to do something I wish to do out of passion. Possibly a missing part to my life’s puzzles.
Talking d-day with Marc about my being sca-fied I found myself in Auckland’s library. With 11 hours difference there was little room for time adjustment. Should I mention NZ is notorious for free Internet availability? And so the library is an oasis. Everything seemed perfect until shouts and cries of small tapping feet assaulted the area I was hiding in secretly. Most of you would agree that stress is good but I tell thee too much of it can be overbearing and debilitating. In this very moment I was trying hard to produce my guts to win Marc’s favor. Little did I know how much of a hindrance would several kids cause. Staring at me with bewildered interest the little monsters started indian style dancing and shrieking around my comfort zone becoming more aroused and fervent by the second as they sniffed distress pouring heavily from my red-faced visage. I was left with no choice but to run my ass off. The mischievous demons followed. Twice did I reconnect the skype session and apologized to Marc. His laconic comment: “That is some loud library” did not actually explain the complexity of the situation at hand. Nor did I had the time to do that myself. Fly, you fool I told myself. But where and how. Should I risk loosing connection with Marc and possibly closing the door behind me or bite one of the goblins head off to scatter the others. And that door struck me. Blessed be the modern building toilet regulations.
I ran again. This time towards clear purpose. Got there in time before my pursuers who could only kiss the handle of the door closed and locked abruptly that created a 2 inch thick barrier between us. The toilet for the disabled. All I could hear was their agonizing screams and sharp fingernails scratching the wooden surface, peeling the paint off. Well, not really. My imagination just flew off the handle but you can reflect it was possibly the worst timing ever just when I was about to say all the tasty bits regarding my humble self. Fortunate I was, got to the john just before being tested. Put my laptop on the baby change table and put myself into use. It did not go exactly marvelous, Marc had objections. But this is the time where persuasion (or is it desperate determination?) kicks in. You know the end. Lucky went happy.
I might say the conditions were not perfect. I might say the power of the situation had ill effects on me, dampening my performance. Truth be told, I do not care.
I got in. And laugh at every time I think of the circumstances. Life works that way. It is a keeper. Go and do likewise. Choose your destiny. Life is a role play with no saves, is it not the best game you can play?
Happy went scary. It is getting close. That thing of huge proportions. Or is it just another of Marc’s email attacking? I wonder why can’t he just write a short and uninviting e-mail stuffed with academic formality. It would be less hard on him and less hard on us recruits receiving it.
The hell he would and the hell he should. Whenever I read his e-mails I feel the need to burst into merry laughter. He just clicks all the right boxes. And the weight of his content is getting heavier and heavier. So heavy that we all will be in trouble lifting it soon. Is this the sword in the stone for us to pull, Marc?
Joking aside, that is the first time I have an impression this year is gonna be the time of my life. And it is not like I’ve been watching Patrick S. and his dancing partner whilst singing the tune as they move it. It is serious now. The pressure is on. And I like it. So much that I actually waited to this day to write that blog. It is 9.27 pm of the first Lord’s Day in September of 2015. Why? I needed to feel it, the tension, the atmosphere, the air of London. To visit the school. The colours of Brixton. Everything so alluring, yet so hard to capture in words. The charm of the moment. Marc says it is gonna be tough, Marc says it is gonna be fun. Tough as fun. Bring it on Marc, I assure you I am not prepared.
Sca is coming,
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