At the weekend I
will move into my third year flat ready to commence my final year of studies at
University. To say it has been a turbulent two years would be somewhat of an
understatement. As I'm preparing to return I guess I'm feeling reflective, or
even nostalgic, maybe that's the reason I felt the urge to write about it.
As I return to
the routine of early mornings, ready meals and very few hangovers (poor example
of a student) it's strange to think of how many people are just beginning their
time at Uni. Racing through Ikea, taking advantage of their parent's bank
account to buy little trinkets (cactuses) and unusual shaped glasses. No doubt
steering clear from the supermarket trip for "necessities" (buying
bath mats and disposable razors never excited me as much: aint no Swedish
meatballs and gravy at Asda...)
School was
always a huge priority for me. As I keep explaining to my little sister, that
doesn't mean the 7am starts, bitchy lunchtimes or stress of A levels were easy,
but they have crafted some interesting memories and certainly developed me as a
person. Maybe just my ability to create 'FOTD' in 5 minutes and throw together
a PowerPoint in a rushed and terrified lunch break. My enjoyment(?) of school
was no doubt the reason I smoothly began the process of applying for Uni.
Looking back now I never really doubted if I’d actually go, I had no idea what
I wanted to do with my life (still don’t), no firm idea if I should study
English (still unsure), but I knew that everyone
else was doing it, so obviously I
thought so too. In retrospect, there was nothing else to do, so, although I made the right choice in going, my naivety
made the whole initiation to Uni life far more terrifying.
Starting Freshers I was surrounded by
others who were so determined in their quest to achieve a First Class Honours
and become the next whoever or whatever. I figured I had three years to choose
my future. Well, here we are at that time and, well, I’m… still clueless.
I’ve spent so much of my university experience
stressing over what I want at the end of it that I’ve overlooked the ‘journey’.
Though I’m nearing the conclusion of #unilife (and apparently sounding like a regretful
senior citizen) the friendships I’ve made will not be coming to an end. Those are
relationships that I’m proud of, as
much as my dissertation proposal in fact. I’ve met so many people, as anyone
starting Uni will, but true friendships have condensed down to far fewer at
this time. Though I’m clueless about the job I’ll settle for, or the place I’ll
choose to live, I know I’ll have some incredible friends to guide me through
these decisions. Even if that is my main achievement from my time at
university, I’ll be more than happy.
Even if only one fresher, or prospective
student reads this, I hope you’ll somehow extract the idea that Uni (typically)
only happens once so try to enjoy it. Try to let your biggest stress be
figuring out how to heat a pot noodle and how tolerable tea can be with expired
milk (hmm).
