Undercover Fresher: Freshers’ Week frenzy

These past few days have been a blur. Giving every Saints sport ‘a go’, attending hall pre-drinks activities, and jamming at Union events has defeated my immune system. I am now at the mercy of Freshers Flu. My lungs – what’s left of them – only take in enough oxygen to allow me to ‘strawpedo’ my worries away.

I am beginning to feel more and more like a St Andrews student. I have purchased a gown (and I look damn fine in it), danced like a madman (or a Scotsman) at a ceilidh, and feigned Scottish pride while watching Murray triumph over Djokovic.

Most importantly, I have now advised into my modules (joy!). As I’ve mentioned before, I am excessively cheap so my inner penny-pincher was overjoyed when I not only found some great deals at the local Barnardos, but I also snatched the last set of books in the store for Arabic (yes, that was me, and I’m not sorry about it). 


While I’m living on weak tea, the majority of my hall must have nothing but coffee and Red Bull coursing through their veins. They go out every night and I hear them coming back in the wee hours of the morning, still as energetic as ever. While Freshers Week is good fun, there is a lot of pressure to go out every night and in order not to seem anti-social (and I still have to find an academic dad, after all).

Wednesday was a day that I had been looking forward to all week: the (free!) ‘give-it-a-go’ sessions of all the sports clubs. After drafting up an unrealistically long list of sports I wanted to try, I went down for my first session. Hours later I limped home, feeling like a true athlete. However, The bruises all over my body testify to the contrary.

Saints Wednesday was not a complete catastrophe as I met my academic mum through one of the sessions. I did a happy-dance in my head for finally being adopted and I now feel very smug. I’ve taken to walking around my hall like the future Queen, safe in the knowledge that my Raisin Weekend is almost taken care of.

After spending exactly five minutes at the One World Freshers Bonfire, we ended the night at the Toastie Bar, where, as far as I am concerned, all nights should end. After ordering a toastie (or six…), we decided to be the lamest freshers in St Andrews and skip Rudimental in favor of heading back to halls, where I ate my toasties in the warm comfort of my bed surrounded by my fresher friends. Perfection? I think, yes.