The stressful, exciting and overall painful emotional stages leading up to your year abroad

More like NObility online!

As September approaches, so does the sweet, sweet smell of independence, Guild burritos, and Raz bombs. But for some of us here who study degrees with 0 career prospects, September just means being jetted off to a foreign country without being able to speak the language or actually knowing what the fuck is going on.

Whether you're studying, working or teaching in the middle of absolutely nowhere, here's the common flow of emotions you'll experience leading up to your time abroad.

The initial excitement

"Omg this is mad, I'm actually going to be moving to central Paris next year! I actually love this degree haha."

The idea of moving abroad really does seem so exciting; it's an amazing adventure, you'll sound so much more cultured than any of your boring STEM friends, and when else in your life are you going to be able to just fuck off for a year to help your degree?

This is all true until you realise that the sheer amount of admin, money, and patience involved in the process is ridiculous. You need a certificate to prove you've never touched a kid? £60. You need to go to an Embassy in London for some sort of training or Q&A session which could easily have been uploaded online? £50. UGH.

Image may contain: Mountain, Sleeve, Person, Human, Outdoors, Nature, Shorts, Clothing, Apparel

"Yah so this one time on my year abroad…"

Ignoring the responsibility of sorting this year out

"Darling, have you found out where you're going to be living in Berlin, uhh, next week?"- Mum for the 30th time this week, despite being reminded that its completely normal to have no idea where you're living until you rock up.

You start to feel pretty numb because of the sheer amount of information you're being told. You know you need to apply for jobs in Barcelona, but how do you even start that process? You've told your university you want to go to a partnered university, but where is all the paperwork or confirmation emails? You know there's stuff you really ought to be doing, but how???

Image may contain: Club, Leisure Activities, Lighting, Face, Human, Person

This is you trying your hardest to fit in with the local Parisiennes, but you just don't know how to do it

Feeling somewhat prepared that this is actually happening

So you get some sort of confirmation email about moving abroad and you can start boasting to people about your exciting future ahead of you, nice.

Image may contain: Smile, People, T-Shirt, Sleeve, Blonde, Woman, Girl, Kid, Child, Teen, Female, Face, Shorts, Human, Person, Clothing, Apparel

Time to start looking at flight tickets and begging your parents to fund them!!

Utter panic because the deadlines start approaching

Remember all the paperwork you were told to do at the start of the year but sacked it off because the deadline wasn't until late July?

You start writing down all the bits of admin that need to be done right now, only to discover that in order to apply for a French guarantor you need an official confirmation email from your host university, and in order to get that official confirmation email you should have confirmed your modules a month ago, but in order to confirm your modules you need a signature from your academic advisor who is currently on holiday. Happy days!

Image may contain: Dating, Furniture, Female, Library, Book, Laptop, Face, Room, Pc, Indoors, Hardware, Keyboard, Computer, Electronics, Computer Hardware, Computer Keyboard, Glasses, Accessory, Accessories, Human, Person

In a few weeks you'll be sat in a French bar, tasse de vin in hand, and all will be okay

Que sera, sera

Maybe you haven't filled in a single document, or you cannot speak a word of Spanish because beginner's courses really don't prepare you for asking your boss for a stapler. But pretty much everyone who's gone on a year abroad never shuts up about it so clearly it works out well somewhere down the line.

Worst case scenario? Simply call all the emergency number. Oh wait, nobody's answering? Ah shit.