Christmas is fast approaching: Reflections on the first term at Bristol from freshers
We’re all spiralling but it’s fine because there are cheesy chips and Thekla Thursdays
Two months in and these are our thoughts as fresher flatmates. Please don’t quote us, we actually have no idea what we are doing.
1. It’s not all fun and games
Spoiler – over nine grand’s worth of tuition fees does actually go towards something! Before coming to uni, I was told over and over “first year doesn’t count, just enjoy it!”, or “first year’s for drinking, not studying”. So, my imaginations of uni life were of clubbing every night, socialising non-stop and spending many idle days violently hungover.
Whilst this is partly true, from the moment I sat down in my first lecture, I realised university did in fact involve some hard work and concentration. I am aware this is coming from a naive and frazzled fresher, but neither of us expected to be writing essays that count towards our final grades within a month of studying. Perhaps in second year I’ll reminisce on feeling this overwhelmed and think, “what were you worried about?”, but I can assure you the current spiral into academic anxiety is all too real.
2. Changing places, not personality
Even though there are so many changes happening around you, from the people you are meeting to the places you are going, you are still the same person. I thought that by being at university, I might miraculously transform into the most confident and stylish version of myself but I’m realising now that change isn’t that quick.
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Don’t get me wrong, I have surprised myself with my ability to yap to random people on the bus or actually contribute to a seminar. It’s definitely possible to push outside your comfort zone and try new things but I think it’s worth noting that you’re still the same person with the same insecurities and anxieties. These don’t magically disappear when you start university (unfortunate, I know).
3. Running up that hill (to your lectures)
Whilst yes, everyone and their mothers warned us about the hills in Bristol, we blissfully chose to ignore that they do exist and they are steep. But picture the 9am trek up to campus looking more like a drowned rat than a Bristol cool girl. The views from Clifton Suspension Bridge and Brandon Hill do make our hikes somewhat worthwhile once you reach the summit. Alas, there are only so many times you can go out and appreciate a sunset, even with the many Instagram Stories you can milk out of it.
4. The boredom is real
Another illusion I was under before becoming a fresher was that I would constantly be busy socialising and working and though I certainly have been making the most of going out whilst simultaneously balancing my workload, there are still days (mostly on the weekends) where it feels like I’m aimlessly floating about the flat looking for something to do or someone to chat to. Perhaps, for me, this is because I’ve been sloppier than I thought I would be when it came to joining societies and finding a job but there can definitely still be boring days at uni.
5. Money, money, money…
Looking back now on how I was planning to budget at uni, my predictions of how much I would be spending on nights out were laughably miscalculated. Despite the fact that I have been regularly frequenting pubs and clubs at home since I turned 18, I really thought that there would be some magic discount for students everywhere I went in Bristol that would save my bank account from the financial damage of a night out.
Instead, I thought all my money would go on coffees and food shopping, but that barely scratches the surface and, regardless, a girl’s gotta eat. No, the actual expenses of club tickets and drinks prices did not match my humble estimations. At least if I’ve learned anything from university so far, it’s how to properly pre-drink.
6. The Great Plague
Freshers’ Flu is no joke. No matter the pre-existing strength of your immune system, no one evades the long-arm of the lurgy. Despite the many warnings, we both really thought that with a cartoon of orange juice and a well-stocked drawer of Paracetamol, we could avoid it. Instead, everyday welcomes a new assortment of symptoms and an alarming self-diagnosis from Google. I say, accept your fate. You’re not superhuman.