Dear finalists, here are the canon events that you will experience this year

As a finalist, you’re now old and you’ve seen it all. You’ve matured from your silly fresh and sensible second year phases and now you’re the patriarchs and matriarchs of the Durham scene. You’re wise but still fun (apart from during exam season).

Your friends have abandoned you for a year abroad/placement year

Second year was the best. All your core friendships from first year flourished and you grew up. But now? Where did they go? One is teaching abroad, and another is working in accounting in London. Now you’re walking through Durham streets remembering the good times and hoping they put aside time from their busy adult jobs to visit you.

You have hangovers now

In first year, you would periodically go to bed around 5 am and wake up spritely in the morning (might not go to your lecture, but you were still capable of doing so). Now? No chance. A night in Jimmy’s sets your back at least a day, two if you took a gap year and you’re over 21.

You still don’t know your diss topic

You had two years to think on this, there is no excuse. But honestly, most people I’ve talked to still only have a very loose idea as to what a major fraction if their degree will be based on. Extra shame should be put on those who had a year out after second year – get your act together, people. Lock in.

The diss topic conversation

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Linking on from the last point, the go-to conversation starters for our year have changed. No longer are we plagued as much by the “What college are you?”, “Where are you from?” questions. Now, it’s “So, what are you doing your diss on?”. I’m honestly not sure which is worse.

The fresh are now children to you (you’re old)

Whenever someone asks me how old I am now, I wince. I’m literally only 21, a comparatively young age in the real world. But in Durham? I’m ancient, I was around when they finished building the cathedral. God forbid you flirt with anyone without asking their age first, every day in Klute is a new risk of becoming and accidental, unwilling shark.

You finally have the perfect housing arrangement

Okay so you had no control over your flatmates in first year (for better or worse). In second year, you probably suffered at least a little. In third year, you are thriving. You know exactly what you need in a housemate after surviving the freshers’ rush and now you’re probably living with the best housing arrangement ever.

Still early days though so who knows. Maybe reserve final judgement until diss deadlines start.

Existential dread

For the last three to four years, you’ve been a uni student. Before that, you were a sixth form/college student and so on. What is next? No more long summer holidays and reading weeks. You’re about to either enter a year of unemployment, or a real nine to five. If you think about it too hard, you might cry so let’s move onto the next point before you impulse enrol onto a master’s course.

Grad job applications

If you’re trying to avoid a year of living with your parents, you’re probably starting to apply for grad jobs. This is the least fun process in the world. The job market is hell right now and you’ve got to set time aside for it when you’re already buried in reading and summatives. Just wait until the rejection emails start to roll in, I bet that’ll be even better.

You’re suddenly busy

Grad job applications, extra-curriculars, seminar reading, lecture prep, diss research. You’re never finished, there’s always some imminent worm that’s due and you can either sleep or get it done. Your friends are going out tonight? Tough luck, you have a diss meeting tomorrow and you haven’t done any reading today. It’s a scary balance between social life, work and sleep and one has to go. Depends on the person as to which one is sacrificed at the altar of final year.

All your friends are in relationships

Back in the day, everyone was single and had commitment issues. Now, everyone seems to be in love all of a sudden. The Hinge scene has increasingly become an exercise in observing ‘what’s left’ in the Durham dating scene.

Talking to younger years about clubs that nobody goes to anymore

Anybody remember Bohemia’s ball-pit? WiffWaff? What about Friday night Katie O’Brian’s, or Monday night Osbourne’s that you had to arrive at 10:30 pm for if you wanted to get in? You mention these things now to the year below and they’ll look at you like you’re an old, weird alien.

Gotta say though, Bohemia’s ball-pit was cursed. Still remember the scabies rumours like it was yesterday.

The sheer cost of graduating

You’d think after paying over nine thousand pound a year, you might get a gown thrown in for free. Or at least it’d be easier to find somewhere to stay for all the people you paid through the nose to buy tickets for. I mean, it’s all worth it for the graduation video, the pretty photos and the long-awaited climb to the top of the cathedral tower. But it definitely doesn’t come cheap at Durham.

Walking past people you lived with in other years

This is always such a strange experience because you used to see the same people everyday and now it’s just weird. You used to carry each other home from nights out and send each other passive aggressive group chat messages. Now you make awkward eye-contact on Church Street. It’s a very odd dynamic.

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