I had to complete a formal withdrawal form in connection with my MA and I went down to the university this morning to get that over and done with. I walked into the building and all my fellow students from last year were waiting together in the entrance hall. Today their work was being examined, I think. And I had to tell them that I was not going on to complete the final year as a part-time student. I didn’t feel that I could give them a good reason as to why I wasn’t going ahead, although I do have a good reason. My young friend Shu said “So you are giving up?” I thought for a moment and then said “Yes.” No point in beating around the bush; in theory I could probably have found a way to continue, even though it would have not been very sensible for me to do so. I spoke to my tutors, too. It was an emotional ten minutes or so. I felt as though I needed to gulp down some air as I left the building.
I am sitting in my little studio at home, drinking from the coffee mug I used to have on my desk at the university studio. That mug previously sat on my desk in the various offices at the university when I worked there as a lecturer. I don’t think it spanned all three decades of my teaching service but I think it was with me for most of that time. I enjoyed moderate success as a teacher and researcher, and it is a novel experience to brush up against failure once again. My mood, by way of association, throws me back to the 1960s and my misguided attempts to train first as a chemical engineer and then as a cost accountant. I was a young man then and there was always a tomorrow. Things feel different now.
I have plenty of things to do. I shall have to enlist the help of my good friend Will Power to get me into some of them this afternoon. It might take a day or two before I regain my equilibrium. I can hear my daughter’s radio alarm playing. She needs to get up to go to work. At least I don’t have to do that.
John's Quavering Pencil 
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