Pretty cheeky of me to do a post on life at uni seeing as I only saw out three month of my three year course but meh, it was enough time to get a feel for the trials and tribulations of a student and OH what a life it was…
£1 shots and the subsequent lack of hangover.
Thinking Oceana was AN AWESOME CLUB.
Fancy dress. You did it all, cavemen, golfers, smurfs, where’s Wally, 80s ravers, soldiers/army, Disney, old people, chavs, trolls, tetris, umpah loompahs, cheerleaders, pirates, sailors. Anything and everything. And it was always SO MUCH FUN.
Going to an arts or fashion uni and some people just taking fancy dress too seriously. Like next level shit.
Ripping up your CARNAGE t-shirt so that your neon bra was totally on show…sexy, sexy, very sexy.
Cringing just a little when you look back now and realise you were the ultimate basic uni bitch.
Turning up to your lecture and having to present to your class with a hand-drawn anchor (sailors night DUH) still etched on the top of your tit and wearing clothing that totally didn’t cover it.
Not getting into halls and feeling like a total outsider because everyone else became instant bezzies and all the best parties were in the halls. Whereas YOU lived with your landlady so you couldn’t even invite people round for a cup of tea let alone a party which made you think you might as well have just stayed at home with your parents.
The Soldier boy dance.
Pre-drinking a brand of vodka you’ve never heard of just because it cost 80p for a litre.
Having one bore in your halls that always told you to keep it down. Ummm I didn’t realise I was living with my grandparents.
Partying all week and staying in on the weekends because you couldn’t afford normal non-student night prices.
Never going to the student Union…except the very first night of freshers week because you didn’t know where else to go and everyone on Hollyoaks always hungout at the SU, duh.
Knowing the one girl at uni who could get you into those ‘super cool’, ‘amazing’ and ‘exclusive’ members clubs in London, where you could rub shoulders with Big Brother contestants like Brian Belo. BEST NIGHT EVERS.
The first big uni night out and spending the whole evening with the one person totally on your wavelength, downing shots, dancing on tables, holding each other’s hair back and realising you’d made a friend for life.
Giving it large that you could drink everyone under the table!! OI OI! strawpeedo-ing a bottle of wine with the rugby LADS and then not even making the night out but instead spending the rest of the evening and the next two days throwing your guts up and googling “can you die from a hangover”.
Moving in with a load of 3rd years who were totally disinterested in you and partying because it’s OUR THIRD FUCKING YEAR. AND REAL LIFE AND SHIT.
Then the one time you do have a few drinks with them, you end up snogging the weird, ugly one who normally never comes out of his room and still wears Lynx Africa, which means you obviously have move out of the house, quit your course and and move to a different uni because the end of the year isn’t coming fast enough and holy shit this is awks united.
Spending approximately 4.5 hours on-line food shopping trying to work out how to eat for a week on £7.50. Thank god for comparison sites. And Aldi. and frozen everything.
Then 10minutes later going real shopping and spending £22 on a blusher from Benefit because no one’s around to tell you that’s a fucking stupid idea. And well, overdrafts.
Being utterly terrified the first time you went into your overdraft and sweating loads because OHMYGODI’VEGOTNOMONEY.
But pretty quickly feeling totally at ease and filthy rich because your limit was fifteen hunny.
Choosing to spend your last fiver on a night out rather than food.
Losing loads of weight.
Gaining even more.
Experimenting with your look. Getting all manner of parts pierced. Nipples, lobes, septums. Dying your hair black. Bleaching it blonde and it falling out. Buying stuff that isn’t you but who cares coz you’re at uni and hell you’ll be a whole new person if you want to.
Staying up watching utter shite (hello Keira Knightly as a heroin addict) on TV til 4am because grown ups set their own bedtimes….and you could sleep til 4pm the next day.
Deciding to get a part time job because being skint sucks. Then resenting it because you’re a hard working student who can’t possibly study AND work at the same time. And what about all that daytime TV that needs to be watched?
Hating all those rich bitches that didn’t need a job because HELLO bank of mum+dad.
Quitting your job by just never going back and hoping your old boss just thought you’d died of Newcastle disease.
(hi 5 if you got the f.r.i.e.n.d.s. reference there)
Realising you were never going to last the three years and even if you did you’d never get a first so instead using your student loan to buy a one way ticket to Dubai. Bye uni, sorry mum+dad and (for once) thank-a-yoooooou government!
(Oh just me that did that then?)
Actually realising at some point you were going to have to do some work. And getting that sick feeling like when you’d forgotten your lunch at primary school or had to do a presentation that you’d not done any work for.
Skidding into third year and being like, ALL THE STRESS. NO I CAN’T. HELLLLLP ME.
Roadtrips to see your other mates who were at uni and it being like a weekend in Shagaluf. You left your morals and your pants firmly back at your halls.
Weatherspoons Curry club. And Steak club. And Fishy Friday.
Going home during the holidays and feeling like you’d returned to a prison. SO MANY RULES.
Finishing your course, passing with a respectable grade, entering the real world and realising things are just about to get so. much. harder.
OH THAT UNI LIFE.
Thanks for Reading!