First day

My alarm was set at 7am, nothing different a month ago when I get up to work. It was strange to look forward to this day after a few weeks of lie in, of daily visits to coffee shops and  the only highlight of the day was a hot yoga session.

I was debating what to wear, I decided on a white polo shirt, it is always smart. My camel trench coat is perfect for this autumn weather. Brown leather shoes, of course to match a brown leather belt. I wore my pin stripped blue trousers and robot printed white socks to give away my personality.

My mum always said you can never be overdressed, and my grandmother believed that wearing good clothes sets you for a good day. I can always take advice from the two most influential women in my life.

After three cups of coffee at home, a backpack filled with a notebook, a 100ml bottle of perfume and few minutes of deciding how to wear my hair, I left the house to catch the 8am bus to town.

I got into town, and the next train to the university campus is still 20 minutes away, I decided to grab another coffee - a cold one. A treat, not my usual coffee of choice this time in the morning but I got a Starbucks Frappucino Caramel. After all, I might need the sugar rush as an extra pick me up.

I arrived in the campus at half 9, and greeted everyone with pleasantries. It was nice to be in a room of PhD candidates starting at the same pace, same academic year and more or less have the same questions and aspirations like me.

Everyone introduced themselves, and talked about their research plans and experience. I was impressed. Everyone spoke with clear passion of their projects, some out of frustration, some out of interest, but one thing is common: To make a difference and get that coveted PhD title.

Others ramble too much, I suppose it is their personal journey. I think, when I said my piece- it was concise and clear. Nobody interjected or followed up some questions after my speech.
I assumed, I was understood. One of the students remarked: "When you spoke, you were very sweet." I don't understand what she meant. But I took it as a complement.

The faculty research team were very helpful. They made the otherwise daunting induction day as comfortable and as relaxed as it can be. It also helped when there's overflowing coffee and posh biscuits in the room. I wasn't tempted though, if I give in to another coffee I will be bouncing up and down, doing cartwheels in that room. I just liked the idea they understood the importance of coffee.

There was a set programme of the day, basically to answer all those pending questions and practicalities of starting a PhD life. I was reassured.I took down notes, listened attentively and wrote my to-do lists.

There was a gourmet cold lunch, from wraps with mint hummus to lamb koftas. I liked the homemade sausage roll- it was cased in a buttery flakey pastry with the meat doesn't taste like nitrate (that preservative in processed stuff). I devoured as much as I can. It was my first meal of the day being on the intermittent fasting diet, so I have to get all my calories in the next 8 hours.

I was one of the first in the queue to grab a plate and head to the buffet table, alongside a vegan colleague . We scrutinised the sandwich fillings and I pointed out to her which is vegan or not. She was amused, I told her one of my best friend is vegan and I live with a vegetarian, so I can spot meat from a distance.

It was a networking lunch, and other people came to join in. I do like these type of lunches. It brings people together in a otherwise awkward room of complete strangers. People helped themselves with food, and I tried to chat along the way. 

The only thing about it is, the bothering thought to carry on a conversation when chewing on a watercress, I am overly conscious of a green leaf stuck in between my teeth. Nonetheless I carried on.

I noticed some people avoided eye contact and they stared at their food, I suppose it is a safe gesture to avoid talking and eating at the same time. I ate as quick as I can and walked around the room to introduce myself to the welcomed guests. I met a few PhD's in their final year, they gave me good advice. They were nice. They were hopeful.

One final year candidate commented that he felt under-dressed when he saw me in the room.
I laughed, he looked particularly nice- with his long swish back hair, designer stubble, black fitted jeans, blue eyes reflected in his blue denim jacket. I told him he shouldn't worry- as I wish I have his looks. He genuinely smiled, and I veered the topic to his study. He was doing qualitative research.  I praised and shared enthusiasm with him. He said "I knew you were a qual researcher, I can see it in your eyes". I didn't know what he meant.

After 3 more cups of coffee in between the afternoon session, the day ended with a question:

"What metaphor are you feeling right now?"

We didn't discussed our answers as we are short of time.

I walked out of the campus, cleared my head-space, visited my old workplace,got home at 8pm 

and decided to start this blog...

And answer that last question:

" I feel like a drifting stream, in disquiet contention
waiting for my fate, flow to that ocean of hope..."