It’s the eve of my final university deadline. A conclusion shaped bow has been stuck to the essay and all that’s left is the bibliography. My 2:1 classification is all but in the proverbial bag, yet my relief and joy is mixed with a dull sense of unease churning in my stomach. (Or maybe that’s just yesterday’s reheated takeaway) For the first time in my life I don’t know what happens next. Up until now I’ve always had a vague plan and a notion of how to achieve it. It was easy. Want go to university. See what grades I need, put in the work, get them. Now with graduation looming comes the realisation that I’ve no clear plan left. Do I want to do a masters? Can I get funding? Do I just try and get a job in television? Maybe just a proper job in general? What exactly does a degree in English Literature actually qualify me to do? Is this something I should have thought about four years ago? I’ve a novel I want to try and write, is that the way to go? What are the chances I’ll actually be able to get a book published? Is lack of sleep making me lethargic, a whine, ask to many questions? Yes. The answer to all is yes and that’s the problem and want to do each and all. I just need to figure out how to get the grades.