Just shy of seven years, I’m finally leaving Dublin.

A part of me would rather remain there – it’s where my life in general has been positioned for a not-insignificant period of time, most of my friends live or spend time there, it has better facilities, coffee shops that stay open after 5pm…. The reasons to move are mostly pragmatic: of the two jobs I have, the better paying is in Waterford; the cost of rent is lower; financially speaking, while I will be earning less, Olivia will be saving more, and that has a knock-on effect on how much I have to spend. The reasons, they are legion.

But more than anything else, it gives me free time.

As vital as keeping two jobs was in the not-so-distant antiquity, the necessity has since passed. Now the greatest requirement for the forseeable future is freeing up time to do… well, anything. Two jobs will unfortunately consume any length of temporal freedom with insatiable glee. This is no complaint – I did, after all, choose this sprang on the fork of the road with good reason, and there is no regrets in that regard.

But I have a Masters proposal to get on paper, potential supervisors to woo, academia to abuse… A future, in short, to plan. This is to say nothing of spending time with Olivia (and indeed in the engagement of plans aforementioned) or to just sit down for ten minutes, do something silly and not be crippled by guilt for impudence and impetuousness five minutes thereafter. Guilt tends to stick with me – I still feel guilty about things from secondary school, and that was over a decade ago. I prefer to avoid giving myself any further reason to drag myself over the hot coals of self-recrimination, so giving is something that other things will have to do.

And now I remember that I am old. Quiet all you 30 years olds and older, subjective experience is a wondrous thing and I am going to revel in it if I so please.

Realistically, I do have to make choices – were I single and unencumbered by responsibilities, then certainly I could josh about as long as I wanted to. But other people now factor into my existential equations, and them I must consider. I can’t quite continue to procrastinate in what I do and choose since the negative effects will impact on more than myself. I’ve already seen how prior choices have impacted upon certain plans (a mortgage, at my current station of life, is not impossible in much the same way that a man in a fridge might theoretically survive a nearby nuclear detonation) I can’t brook that occurring again, now that I am conscious of the issue. With great power, great responsibility, great cliche, great realisation, strained metaphor…

Rather than being some doom-laden end to youth and childish things (after all, who expects me to somehow be anything other than a childish sort of deviant?), this does allow me the greatest number of options in how to proceed in the future. So this weekend is now the last hurrah for the moment – I may move back in time to come, I may head to pastures new. The moment does deserve some account though, so here we are.

All things said, it could be a lot worse.