52 Days of I'm Not Quite Sure What

52 days since arriving at university... 52 days of becoming the master of procrastination, 52 days of learning how to drink a litre of rum without vomiting, 52 mornings of oversleeping, 52 packets of 9p noodles and 52 days where I've wondered what the fuck is actually going on.

Whoever thought it would be a good idea to let thousands of lets face it, children, live in a huge complex together with absolutely no adult supervision whatsoever must be an absolute fucking nutter. Saying that I'm not one for good ideas and drinking myself into oblivion and turning up to lectures still on the extremely wonky side is 100% my idea of good time.


What my course actually entails I couldn't begin to tell you BUT what I can tell however is how to get a trolley in to a third floor flat without majorly injuring anybody and I can also tell you how entertaining staring at a wall becomes after 10 minutes of a Shakespeare lecture.

All joking aside though, turning up with my suitcase and 'big tesco bag' of worldly possessions all those 52 days ago was definitely slightly daunting and in all honesty it probably wasn't until a few weeks ago I properly settled in. Now my little box room scattered in dirty clothes and the whole selection of kitchenware is what I'd like to call my humble abode.



For any parents out there worried about their 'baby girls' and their 'baby boys' experiencing the harsh realities of the big wide world... Please, please don't worry because this is not even a fraction of the real world and we're all doing just fine. It's basically just a year long sleepover where playing out becomes living at the pub down the road and bedtime stories evolve into everyone crammed into one persons room watching a marathon of some relatively mind-numbing TV series on someones laptop.


Being thrown into such a we're-living-in-each-others-pockets-but-I-don't-really-mind kind of environment with people you've never met before is definitely an odd experience. For me what I've found the most comforting thing to be is how close you actually can become with people in such a short space of time. Within the first day I'd found my own little group and before knew it I was pouring my heart out to them over a portion of chips at the beloved 'Uni Kitchen' and then turning up to their door every morning thereafter for a brew and a ciggy. It is like having your own little family, a very dysfunctional family to say the bare minimum, but a family nonetheless.


Basically I'm trying to say that although my abilities to prioritise are lacking and I base my days around when I've been awake long enough for it to be nap time again, university is fun. And the staying up late to read the 4 novels, 50 poems and 5 Shakespeare plays you're yet to read and panicking about all the work you need to do is all part of the experience. It's okay to be a little behind and to be going out instead of doing your work (maybe) because that's what first year is for and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise clearly hasn't been here before. 

Just gotta pass..... right?