Diary of a Fresher - Week 1

This article comes from a fortnightly column I write for the London Student. I wrote this way back in September.

The thought of uni switches from total elation to insistent fear in seconds depending on what you read. On the one hand there are thoughts of round the clock parties and making friends for life. After 18 or more years of living under someone else’s roof, you’ve finally gained your independence.

On the other is living a life fuelled by spiraling debt and 22p Tesco Value Vegetable Rice.

There are reams of pages online that make student life seem fool proof. You’re advised on everything from how to go about your first day, to washing your clothes and escaping a diet consisting exclusively of baked beans. Surely nothing can go wrong! And once again all hope is restored.

Alternatively, reading national newspapers, especially around the time of exam results being released, tinges excitement with dread. Thousands of college students haven’t got places, so feel lucky you’re heading to uni at all. Then any sense of smugness is snatched away as you are pleasantly reminded your degree could ultimately be a terrific way to waste 20 grand.

Talking to current students can also be a mixed blessing. While you try and retain every precious piece of guidance on offer, all that seems to stick in your mind is the seemingly useless and obvious. Don’t buy too much stationery because you won’t need it. Don’t take your laptop to the first lecture because you’ll look ‘well keen’. Get rid of your parents ASAP, don’t unpack and head to the nearest pub with your new friends.

Advice never seems to stretch to how you can turn on the exact cooker you will be infinitely confused by in your kitchen, and who it was that stole your milk when you desperately needed a coffee before you first lecture.

 Even the likes of Facebook groups that give you the sinister power of knowing almost every detail about the lives of your fellow flat-mates before you even arrive won’t help.

As the day of moving gets closer, you find yourself wanting to succumb to talking to other students in waiting. At first there seemed something odd about knowing everyone before arrival. Getting to know each other at first sight seemed to be all part of the fun, but curiosity gets the better of you.

Having to apply so long before you go means you spend a year counting and waiting. Months eventually become weeks, and weeks become days.

Then you find that the one shopping spree you went on with your mum to get your uni stuff sorted was less than fruitful because somehow all you bought was a frying pan and a wooden spoon.  You now wonder what you will cook with. 

You’ve read nothing from your reading list and you’ve reluctantly bought some texts books, thinking with every book you buy ‘that’s another vodka and orange I won’t be having at Freshers.’

All that’s left to do is to ignore anything that is too terrifying to think about (hazing and the freshman 15), pack, go and enjoy it.