Don’t be a boring third year – go out and enjoy yourself
Don’t waste your last year
You should be a pro at it by now. First year you went out all the time because, well, come on, it’s first year. It doesn’t count. You could do what you want.
Second year you tried to settle down and become responsible, but still, you always felt that pang. You wanted the sesh.
Why is third year any different? Because it actually matters now?
Bull. It mattered in second year, too, but that didn’t stop you. Suddenly, you’re boring. Snap out of it. Third year should be the time of your lives.
The truth is, this is the last year you have to be a student, to rely on a loan and to have it be socially acceptable to go out on a Tuesday. When you’re working, that goes out of the window. When you’re working, you have 9am’s every day.
It’s the time for us to go mental, because by now we’ve mastered the art of doing uni with a hangover, of doing assignments in impossible amounts of time, and we’ve learned how to have a bloody good time. Why does this have to stop just because this year is our final?
These are our last Glam Mondays, our final Revs for Bevs, and when will it be acceptable to go out in a bin bag in the future? Never. This is why we need to make the most of the Lash. These are the clubs that let us be who we truly are.
Look, I’m not saying sack off your degrees. It’s why we’re here after all, but have some fun. Have a sesh in the library and then go home and have a Walkabout sesh. It’s a beautiful balance we have had three years to perfect.
Hangovers are something we’ve mastered by now. Drink plenty of water, gulp some Paracetamol, and demolish just a little bit of take away and we’re sorted right out. Plus this year there’s a reason to get out of bed.
Our work is important, but so are our social lives. Finding a good future is crucial, but you need to live a little. We came to uni for two reasons: to get a degree and to have a good time. Don’t sacrifice one for the other. It works both ways. Find a balance.
We came here to make memories, to have no regrets, and to be a fucking baller. Don’t sit in the library for 24 hours scrolling through Facebook wishing you were a fresher again. Get out with them and teach them how it’s done.
At the end of the day, this is the last year we have with our uni friends. You’ll stay in touch, but it’ll never be the same. Ten of you won’t live in a house at the same time and be able to argue over who drank who’s milk or complain about the mouse that tried to get into your Nutella.
Make some lasting memories to look back on and smile. Get drunk and laugh at how stupidly crazy you are, because now’s the only time to wake up on the floor of your kitchen surrounded by the cheesy chips that you failed to finish last night.
Be a third year. Live a little.