How to deal with being a twat

Gabrielle McGuinness: Week 3: Existential crisis

I’ve accepted that I’m an awful human. Yes, Tab commenters, we’re finally in agreement.

I had this epiphany the other day as I pondered which vintage floral shirt to wear while I poured soya milk into my tea, despite not being lactose intolerant. These ideas developed as I went for my morning cigarette (rolled, naturally) and listened to a mix on SoundCloud by a DJ that you won’t know.

I am a pastiche of myself and everything I thought made me unique, actually makes me a pretentious asshole. You could throw me some PG tips but tell me it was a Tibetan herbal tea that helps create endorphins, and I’d claim to instantly feel waves of euphoria after one sip.

How else could I tell the world I’m an arty twat without the excessive use of filers?

Maybe I’m just trying to comfort myself, but I’m certain we’re all repulsive in myriad ways. I’ve identified four main genre of twat, but this list is by no means exhaustive:

1. The creative twat with a social conscience. You unleash you nomadic spirit and rebel against conformity with your unpredictable work rate and lecture attendance. Most of you study the arts, but this is no steadfast rule. It’s likely you have a niche dietary requirement, probably vegetarianism. You enjoy the odd cigarette, or maybe seven a day. Your dream in life is to discover new ways to express yourself. As a general rule, you can’t really be in this clique if you’re not a leftie with borderline radical socialist tendencies, while also aspiring to be an activist. For this reason you don’t dare confess that you love the home comforts of Sky TV, fridges with water dispensers and consumerist indulgence. But hey, at least you’re compassionate.

2. The sporty twat. By the time everyone else has stumbled out of bed late and struggled to find a clean outfit to wear, you’ve already been on a run. Now, you’re in the library browsing through some academic journals. You manage to eat healthily despite the temptations of the Van of Life. Somehow you participate in every college sport, maintain a regular jogging schedule and you’re still ahead of your peers in your studies. You mentally lap up compliments as though you’re being showered in avocados and goji berries. You believe you’re their idol, when actually everyone is slightly repulsed by your smugness. Evidently they’re just jealous.

   “Hey everyone! Look how healthy I am!”

3. The party animal. You won’t shut up about the wild adventure you had while everyone else was in the library studying. The reason you never started rowing or auditioned for a play was not a lack of motivation, but because you had a different destiny. You are the social heart of your college. Everyone envies your unparalleled ability to scrape together essays before predrinks. Be it for music recommendations or for inspiration on what to wear, they flock to you so you can ensure they have the greatest evenings of their lives. Who cares about tuition fees when you can spend more money on jaeger bombs? Only you can transform dull Cambridge nightlife into unforgettable moments because you’re the Saviour of students. In times of darkness you proudly lead people to the bright lights of Fez.

   You can try to find your soul at a rave in stonehenge but we know you’re dead inside really

4. The corporate obsessive. Most people are just trying to pass a degree, but you’ve already got your foot in the door of every top firm. Once upon a time you considered entering politics, but watching Wolf of Wall Street demonstrated the corporate world is more glamourous. You watched the Apprentice since season one and, with Lord Alan’s help, you’ve learnt everything. You didn’t need University but you used the time to network with every potential famous or incredibly powerful person in Cambridge. Now, you fall asleep grinning as you know they’re much happier through meeting you, because you’ve transcended BNOC status. You’re a big name of the world.

Some of these are your best friends, or even you. As long as you’re not a UKIP supporter, you’re not completely intolerable. We just need to confront the reality of our awfulness.

Let’s unite in our mutually horrendous pursuits. Who hasn’t gone out to buy new underwear because they’re too lazy to a laundry run? When was the last time you got on public transport to find no one staring at their phones?

Welcome, friends, to your new home!i

As Cambridge students, we are destined to be this way. It’s true we go to three course formal dinners dressed in gowns. We do, however balance this with dinners that consist entirely of Uncle Ben’s microwaveable rice packets and vodka mixed with cranberry juice in water bottles. It’s the best of both horrible worlds, to misquote the modern philosopher, Hannah Montana.

It’s likely that this newsflash has put you in a state of denial, but remember this is a natural first step. Grieving the loss of your self-importance is quite the ordeal and coming to terms with it could anger you. You may try to work out what you could have done better to avoid becoming horrible and you’ll be inconsolably unhappy. Eventually, you will shake off those illusions of grandeur and achieve acceptance. After completing these five stages of not giving a crap, you will be liberating from caring what anyone thinks. This is my utopia, where we can all embrace being horrible creatures together.