Molly Mae says we all have 24 hours in a day but how do Edi students spend theirs?
I doubt Beyoncé could be as much of a #girlboss with a permanent hangover tbh
Molly-Mae (aka our once beloved self-professed girl boss) has got into hot water over “tone deaf” comments on having everyone “the same 24 hours in a day as Beyoncé”. With her interview circulating around social media faster than a Pollock girl on the pole at Gari’s, it’s the most meme-worthy scandal 2022 has seen so far.
But we can only wonder what Molly Mae would think of the Edinburgh uni girls and how they decide to spend their 24 hours. Spoiler alert: it’s slightly more hangover than hustle.
11am (let’s face it – it’s probably 12)
Hungover, hungry, and hit with the sudden realisation that you have no memory of the night before, it’s time to join your first live lecture (from bed of course ). Logging into MyEd and seeing your lecturer disgustingly cheerful at such an early hour, you immediately leave your laptop and walk into the kitchen to make your morning coffee.
Kicking aside beer cans and playing hopscotch to avoid the sticky spots, you make it to your fridge where you take out your carton of Oatly (because Veganuary, duh). Then you make your budget avocado toast which is slightly brown because they were salvaged from the Nicholson Street Lidl after a long day in the lib. You then complain for ten minutes about how dirty the kitchen is, only to proceed to throw your dirty plate into the sink as well.
Returning back to your room you discover the lecture has 10 minutes left and is asking if anyone has any questions, you realise there is no point in finishing and vow to do it later.
Shower time! Except you have to use the boys shower because your shower is broken and has been broken since the day you stepped foot in Pollock. But nonetheless, the piping hot water has the power to wash away all your sins from the night before.
You have a sudden burst of energy and decide to do something with your day and make the effort to go and work in the library. Beyoncé would be proud!
Browsing your array of trendy tote bags, you pick out the University of Edinburgh-branded one you got for free on the open day. It might not have a patch on Molly Mae’s Louis Vuitton collection but at least everyone you pass on the street will know you’re smart.
You throw in your thousand pound MacBook, lip gloss, a book for the aesthetic, and a matching Chilly’s water bottle and keep cup because you are THAT girl.
It’s already lunchtime so you walk to Pret on Hanover Street with your friends who’ve also suddenly decided to make their day productive.
You queue for 20 minutes outside the door in the bracing Scottish air as it’s already full of like-minded tote bag girlies. This doesn’t phase you as it’s all part of the beloved Pret experience. You leave with your free oat milk cappuccino as you *obviously* have the subscription.
You’ve arrived in George Square only to find it’s Paris Fashion week and immediately feel self conscious that you are scraping by on day three hair. But at least you are wearing your dramatically oversized fur jacket from Depop so no one would suspect otherwise.
You walk into main lib and queue for the elevator for 15 minutes because there is no way in hell that you are taking the stairs, praying there is space on the fourth floor. You get out of the elevator only to face 30 students immediately looking up from their desks and glaring at you from behind their masks.
After circling around the entire floor with absolutely no spare seat in sight, you make fleeting eye contact with who you assume to be the love of your life for a split second, hallucinating wedding bells in the background.
After giving in and deciding to go down to third, you finally find a seat in the corner. Ten minutes later, you go on a mission to find a book where you deliberately walk past that same table your soulmate from earlier was sat. Disappointingly, he’s been replaced with another student. *Sigh*. You bump into other people you know and collectively decide that now is the best time for a catch up, so you leave the library with them for a cheeky Starbucks and cig break.
You come back to your seat an hour and a half later finally having the motivation to start your essay. Time goes by with the blinding fluorescent lights and the continuous coughing from the person sitting opposite, and suddenly you hear the intercom saying the library desk is closing at 7:45pm.
Exhausted and sad, you decide there is no point in staying any longer and leave the library. On your walk home you realise you have no food left in the fridge. Oh, if only you had Molly Mae’s private chef to make you a gourmet but nutritionally balanced meal. Instead, you make a pitstop in Tesco and grab a meal deal. How we love adulting.
After catching up with your flatmates in the kitchen you find out they’ve also done no work today. So, you all decide to treat yourself by going out tonight because you can’t *not* make an appearance at Why Not on a Wednesday. You might not be an influencer but you are desperate to be featured in Clubbers of the Week, ofc.
After catfishing to the max with your makeup, it’s time for pres to begin in the kitchen. The LED lights are on, your pres playlist is blasting and the randoms you didn’t know were joining you have arrived. It’s time for the pres photoshoot with the gals that will be plastered all over your Instagram stories to make all your followers jealous.
Pres go on for way too long as per usual (when will we learn?) so the squad mum books an Uber and you all rush out of your flat.
The queue for Whynot is insane as per usual and you wonder why you put yourself through this every week, because there is no way you are getting in at this time.
Nonetheless you make random best friends with someone in the line over your shared annoyance of how long the queue is taking, Snapchats are exchanged and faith is restored.
The bouncer declares that even though you’ve waited 40 minutes in the queue and actually half sobered up before reaching the door, you are *still* too drunk to get into the club and he tells you to: “go take a walk and come back”. Ugh not again!
Somehow you make it into Shanghai, result!
But it’s all too good to be true when you go to the smoking area only to see someone you’ve gotten with the night before.
You stumble home with your friends and collectively decide now is the time to try and use the flat toastie machine. Inevitably, you burn the first three and run out of bread.
You have an “afters” of sorts that just consists of sitting around and chatting shite about the people in your accommodation you don’t like.
You finally call it a night and head to bed with a pint of water and paracetamol next to your bed for tomorrow’s hangover.