Okay, so you know that feeling in your chest when you come out of an exam, maybe it went surprisingly well, maybe you don’t care anymore, but it’s over. Well, imagine that on prozak, merrily tipsy on tequila and you’ve got where I am about now. My exams are over. I have finished my first year of uni. More importantly, I survived. Morals un-compromised, liver in tact, sanity okay and emotionally stable.
I thought uni was going to change me. I was going to have to learn to like clubs and their shit music and girly girls and force myself to drink shit, cheap coffee. I am very pleased to announce, I’ve been to clubs under 10 times, I still hate their music (despite a few Justin Bieber bangers), my fear of girly girls has- if anything- worsened and I proudly have a jar of Douwe Egberts in the cupboard. And maybe, maybe I did actually have a fucking fantastic year.
Well, yes, at times I may have been a tiny bit stressed, (soz housemates girlfriend who I shouted at the first time we met- I’m lovely really, promise!) And okay, maybe drinking whilst stressed/tired/dehydrated/empty stomach hasn’t always been a treat…and being poor has definitely had it’s draw backs, but I’ve loved these last nine months. I keep having little wiggle moments where I’m like I did it. I feel like I’m being incredibly overdramatic about this, but you know what, I did it fucking well.
My exams went well, if you exclude my computer crashing a third of the way through one and gym music playing all through the other. I feel pretty good about all of them, but because I’m unsure about weighted averages, I don’t know if I got a 2:1 or a 1st this year.
I’m spending the next week or so hanging out here in Pompey before going home to butt-fuck nowhere to spend a summer working to pay for car insurance and hopefully some travelling. The next week is just packing, some seriously ouchie goodbyes to my beautiful Brazilians and alllllll the beer and food.
It feels really weird being finished. I don’t know what to do with myself. Everything becomes 1000x less interesting when you’re not doing it to procrastinate. I’m so excited about starting to blog more, and being able to read books I actually want to read and download new music and everything else without should-be-revising guilt.
I wanted to write this for myself really; to remember that it’s been a year of green stubby beer bottles, Brazilian music, The Kooks Naive, kitchen distractions, I-Totally-Got-This feelings, I-Totally-Haven’t-Got-This feelings, saia da minha cozinha puta‘s,library afternoons, Red Hot Chili Peppers, my fairy lit room, Sunday trips to Sainsburys, Monday night shopping, Crazy Eights and one night sitting on the roof.