Academic new year’s resolutions Glasgow students will break before week three

It’s January. The semester is fresh. The air is crisp in a way that feels symbolic rather than helpful. Your Notes app contains a deranged amount of optimism, including several bullet-point lists titled things like “new semester reset”, “academic glow up”, and “this time I’m serious”. You are convinced this year will be different. You are wrong.

You have purchased stationery. You have downloaded productivity apps. You have said phrases like “I’m actually really excited to be organised this semester” out loud, to other people, without irony. Here is a rundown of the academic resolutions we swore by on January 1st and quietly abandoned by mid-January, somewhere between a 9am lecture and a £3.80 coffee.

1. “I’ll balance uni, work, social life, and self-care”

You will not.

Something will go. It’s usually self-care first, followed closely by sleep. You tell yourself stress builds character. It does not. It builds eye bags and a weird twitch when Outlook opens.

2.“I’ll stop buying coffee every day”

You last three days.

Soon enough, your bank statement knows your barista better than your flatmates. There’s a familiar nod when you walk in. They don’t ask what you want anymore. They just start making it. You start factoring a £3.80 latte into your daily budget like it’s rent.

You justify it as “fuel.” You call it an investment in your education. You say things like “it’s basically cheaper than therapy” while actively avoiding your banking app. It’s emotional support in liquid form, and honestly? At this point, taking it away would be cruel.

3. “I’ll actually use this new notebook”

Most Read

I film my straight boyfriend sleeping with other men, and I see no problem with it

Sorry in advance: Here are all the unhinged pics and clips of Beavo’s mum on OnlyFans

I missed the Stranger Things finale’s post-credit scene and it literally changes everything

You cracked the spine like it was a sacred text. First page? Immaculate handwriting.
By Week three, the notebook is either completely empty, used for one random lecture and then abandoned, or repurposed as a place to doodle while you zone out.

Meanwhile your real notes live in seven different Google Docs named “notes??” and “lecture stuff.”

4. “This is the semester I go to every lecture”

The attendance arc starts strong. You’re early. You sit near the front. You nod thoughtfully.

By Week three, you’re calculating whether turning up for the last 20 minutes counts as being “seen”. You start saying “the slides are basically the lecture” with frightening confidence. You stare at your timetable like it’s optional DLC.

5. “I’ll start assignments early”

In January, you are a changed person. You open the brief weeks in advance. You make a folder. You tell people you’ve “started already” and feel like a god amongst lesser organised students.

Then suddenly it’s 2am, you’re Googling “how to write an introduction” and negotiating with the concept of sleep. You might as well move into the library at this point, the security gaurds know you’re the last to leave every night.

6. “I’m going to the gym loads this semester”

January gym is a contact sport. You are there. Your best mates and opps are there. The situationship you had last semester is there. Everybody and their auntie is there. Jeez, is that your professor on the treadmill?

Mid-Jan arrives and the gym membership becomes more of a donation to the institution. Your main form of exercise is now speed-walking to class because you’re late and mildly panicked.

7. “I will do the readings before the lecture.”

You genuinely believed this. You even opened the PDF once, stared at the introduction, and felt briefly superior.

Fast forward to five minutes before class, when you’re skimming the abstract with the urgency of someone defusing a bomb. The reading list has quietly transformed into a reading suggestion.

8. “I’ll eat proper meals”

You planned lunches. Maybe even meal-prepped.

Week three: You are running on caffeine, a sad meal deal, and you have eaten pesto pasta for three days straight. You keep a frozen pizza on hand in the freezer, saving it for a rainy day but… hey its always rainy in Glasgow. Treat yourselves why don’t you (you have rarely, if ever, denied yourself anything)? 727 is calling your name.

9. “I’ll keep on top of emails”

Hahahaha as if! You open Outlook with confidence. You feel capable.

Week three: 427 unread emails, including one from week one that definitely mattered and is now too late to emotionally process. You mark things as “unread” so future you can panic instead.

10. “I’ll go to office hours”

You really believe this makes you an adult. A scholar. A true academic weapon.

Week three: the idea of voluntarily talking to a lecturer feels like turning up uninvited to someone’s house. You decide the question can wait. It never gets asked.

For more of the latest news, guides, gossip and memes, follow The Glasgow Tab on Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook.