I realise that despite my column being called ‘Second Year In The City’ - and being four editions in - I still haven’t actually written about being in uni. This, I feel, has probably been a problem throughout every aspect in my life: total avoidance of the subject. I made a list of things I had to do this month and stuck it on my wardrobe as a reminder (if I hadn’t seen ‘your head must be attached to your body’ written down somewhere I would forget it). The list had 12 things that I needed to do. I’m not including this article in the list, it’s lucky number 13.
Maybe it’s just because of my terrible memory - anyone who has had a conversation with me knows that half-way through a sentence I stop and go ‘uhhhhhhhh’ - but first year wasn’t like this, was it? It was halcyon days of 12 Hour Tuesday, Orange Wednesdays, naps….even if I nap now I have to put on a law podcast in the hope that while I’m sleeping I subconsciously absorb the Human Embryo and Fertilisation Act. The only reason that I need a snooze these days is because I seem to have to stay up EVERY SINGLE NIGHT until at least midnight to finish something off. Then get up at 9am and have the same horrible day again. I have a constant stress headache, probably from grinding my teeth while I type, because I can’t work harder or faster or more intelligently. I did join the gym this year because I find exercise a really good way of relaxing, but I feel guilty if I do go because it’s an hour of studying lost and I feel guilty if I don’t, which is pretty self explanatory. Get out of my life coursework!!!
I’m also starting to really resent people rich enough not to have part-time jobs. If I have a week to do something it’s actually only five days because Saturday and Sunday are taken up by standing on a shop floor and taking abuse from irate Christmas shoppers. I suspect these rude people that stamp through the door are the same people who never had to work while they were at uni. ‘Hey, buddy, I have this job so I can pay my rent and my phone bill and my petrol and when I’m not having to stand here looking at your face I have to go home and get a degree so just shut up, ok?’
This time of year is supposed to be shopping for a fancy festive outfit and ice skating in George Square and wearing knits. I don’t need to wear knits because I don’t actually go out my flat anymore unless it’s to a tutorial or lecture or something else that’s going to create yet more work. I want to be going for hot chocolate with my boyfriend and secret santa-ing with my friends and decorating the flat with the girls. I’ve been forced into making my first resolution for this year - bit late but better than never. As soon as this bleak mid-winter is over I’m dressing up, going out and getting crunk. Crazy, crazy drunk.