What does your library seat say about you?
A metric with 100% accuracy.
Buzzfeed has had it wrong this entire time. Trying to guess the inner workings of the human mind through the medium of quizzes about breakfast choices, musical preferences and one's favourite colour is wrong! If you want a foolproof model on which to map human behaviour, then the only method lacking a margin for error, the fundamental judgement of one's actions, is the seat that they select at the library. So here it is Cambridge, put down your horoscope; if you really want 'know yourself' then read this flawless guide.
Quite figuratively speaking, the decision to sit here is like a window into one's soul. There is a 90% chance that you suffer from a severe case of FOMO, strategically situating yourself so that friends walking idly by will be forced to 'disturb' you from incessantly scrolling through social media. Any potential offer to abandon your work is accepted in an instant. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you are probably the first to reply to the group chat, can never go straight to bed after 'pres', and have made some of your best friends in the self-checkout line at Mainsburys.
The CENTRE of attention
Much like your comrade by the window, you don't go to the library for purely academic purposes. However, unlike the window-sitter, you've recognised and addressed your short attention span. Firstly, the pressure of sitting where the veteran library-goers can see you keeps you focused, but more importantly your vibrant presence distracts everybody else. Donning deliberately distinctive garms – a college jumper, stash from a University sports team, bright green doc martens – you ensure that any potential Crushbridgers will single you out. It is more than likely that you also applied for Rag Blind Date with serious intentions and have an unhealthy Tinder addiction.
The Sofa Sitter
I wouldn't be surprised if you were reading this at some ungodly hour of the evening. You probably pack for an all-nighter at the library as if it's a two-week walking holiday in the Lake District; blankets, snacks, a thermal full of coffee, maybe even a cheeky change of clothes. Once again, despite your best intentions, the weekly essay has become a 'night before' kind of job. The sofa provides a perfect location to take a well-deserved 3am power nap after nailing a solid introductory paragraph. You have definitely lost more than a few CamCards, and have had your bedder walk in on you sleeping naked at 2pm.
The Corner Kid
They say that 'nobody puts baby in a corner', but that's most certainly where you will be. A focused and well-rounded individual, you sit facing the wall to minimize distractions from that extra reading you're completing. No doubt for Christmas you received more than one of the following; a week-planner, colour-coded files, or a set of novelty post-it notes. Everyone envies your superhuman ability to complete all your work on time and get a solid 8 hours of sleep each night, while somehow playing two college sports and launching your campaign for JCR President. Bravo my friend, bravo.
One non-negotiable requirement for your workspace is access to a plug socket. Where else would you plug in that Macbook Pro or iPhone containing your carefully named Spotify playlists? Lacking the ability to work without 'tunes' blaring in the background, removing your headphones would be like turning off the life support. A self-confessed music snob, you wince every time Mr Brightside or Africa is playing in Cindies, and refuse to attend any grime-related events at Fez.
Edgy Side Room
The intense silence of a library, surrounded by old books and heavy wooden furniture fails to provide a suitable backdrop for your carefully honed aesthetic. Thus, you feel it necessary to distance yourself from the 'mainstreamers' in the main library. You probably made a smooth transition from 'emo' to 'edgy' during your gap year, sporting an unconvincingly original man bun, paired with some 'wavy garms' purchased in the Urban Outfitters Black Friday Sales. You probably study some form of Humanities degree, and like to complain loudly about how narrow the curriculum is for your wider intellectual interests.
The 'Floorless' Option
With Week 5 fast approaching, any Cambridge Student has the potential to become the person blacked out on the library floor. You have a sleep schedule revolving around midnight trips to Gardies, you are dangerously close to entering your overdraft due to an unhealthy Café Nero addiction, and your attendance at Wednesday Cindies is more consistent than lectures. Don't worry though, you have that stolen traffic cone in your ensuite, and empty Asti bottles as signs of your committment to the 'the sesh'.
Whichever library seat you choose, remember: it's impressive that you made it to the library at all!