When I was young, I loved school so much I was often up and dressed for it by 5am, even on the weekends. We lived some way from the small country town where I attended school, departing home not long after 7am each morning, and a bus trip that lasted almost 90 minutes each way. Life on the farm was full of a wonderful sense of freedom mostly because of the space and time spent on our own, but entailed a lot of hard physical work, and life was anything but easy. Study and school came just about at the bottom of the rung, especially in Dad’s eyes as I was one of four girls, and he had been brought up to believe that females should marry and have children, not study and go out to work. It was a very old-fashioned way of thinking and parenting, and certainly had an impact on my life. The harshness of our existence meant for me, school was like an oasis in the desert. I loved learning, was reasonably intelligent and found studying easy. I feel sure if I had gone to university, as I had wanted to do when I was 17 but was too naive and quiet to ‘run away’ as I would have needed to have done, my life would have been very different. Life is like that, full of sliding doors, and depending on which one you choose, or which one chooses you as I often think, it very much decides that part of your journey. As I grow older, I suspect if I had gone to uni as a young person, I may never have left, and can’t begin to imagine how my life might have been. Not better I’m sure, just very different. Last week, I received another happiness pill… an email from my university supervisor saying there is still a way for me to complete my Honours degree and they will support me in any way they can to help me get there! I have no idea how I will achieve the exegesis part of the thesis, but will just have to find a way. Being such a nerdy sort of person, this was such a thrill, and has increased my energy to find ways to make my brain create new pathways. Perhaps studying now, when I have dementia, is exactly the right time for me!