Wednesday, 21 September 2016

uni time

I finished my last shift at work yesterday (5 and a half hours early- that 0 hour contract life) and so it has struck me that my gap year is well and truly over. In a slightly fragile state (work leaving drinks never do my liver any favours) I had intended to do a blog post documenting the things I am taking with me to uni, but, sat here in my pyjamas looking at the piles of belongings among which are a milk frother, garlic crusher and enough tampons to supply a small country I have realised it probably wouldn't be that interesting. Oh and I can't really bring myself to move from this spot.

It hasn't quite sunk in that on Saturday morning with a car overflowing with the contents of my life I'll be going to Bath for something other than a day trip. The room I'm given will become as much (if not more) my own room than the one I sit in now. The city won't just be a nice place to visit but in fact my new home- one I may work in and will spend my nights stumbling drunkenly around en route to clubs and browsing the shops for food and clothes.

Despite going a year later than most of my peers I still don't feel ready to move out. It's not so much the aspect of living 'alone'; cooking my own meals and doing my own washing etc, but more the prospect of living with a group of strangers in an unfamiliar city and being forced into structure and routine. Full time work gave me a break from routine; my hours varied weekly and every day was different, and I'm not particularly eager to give that up. But hey, stuff has to change for progress to be made. If I don't go to uni I can't get a degree and if I don't get a degree I can't do a phd and if I don't do a phd then I can't be a clinical psychologist. But then again, maybe my dreams of being a clinical psychologist will change too. I could wake up tomorrow and realise that I want to a midwife. Our choices aren't fixed. Our personalities are constantly changing. What I want to be right now might not be the same in 4 years, or in fact, 4 minutes.

I don't have high expectations for uni, much to the annoyance of my family who seem disappointed that I'm not ecstatic to go. I guess other choices don't come with a £27000 price tag. But I figure that this way I'm less likely to be disappointed. I'm sure it will be fine. I expect my house mates will end up my close friends, my course will be interesting and I'll enjoy seminars and lectures. The freedom of uni life will be an experience and it will all be worth it in the end, but I also expect that during my first term there will be nights where I wish I was surrounded by my colleagues having a pint after work, where there'll be awkward silences with new friends who I don't have much in common when we run out of conversation topics to discuss, moments where I want to cry with frustration because I do an assignment wrong or forget to do my washing and have no clean clothes. But it's all character building, right?

And anyway, 10% of uni students drop out, so worst case scenario I became one of them.

Laura x

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