Undercover Fresher: Library Livin’

I wish that I could recount countless drunken tales from the epic parties that I’m sure happened this week in the Bubble. I’m sorry to let you all down, but this week I have been embarrassingly, excessively lame.

I could shrug it off and say that I’m conserving energy for the orgy of booze and antics that is in store for next weekend (bring it on, Raisin), but that’s not my style. Here it is, black and white: I’ve been in the library all week.

I have an essay due, okay? And frankly, I get distracted by food when I’m in my room. Laugh all you want. It’s true.

I’ve heard it all before – “You’re a fresher – why are you in the library?” or “Wait until you’re a third year … then you’ll understand what work really is”, or “Fresher? FRESHMEAT. Now get out of my chair.”

Okay, maybe the last part didn’t happen. But it may as well have, judging by the looks I was getting last night from people on the second floor for my constant sniffling. I have a cold, okay? Stop glaring at me.

Freshers get a bum rap for ‘invading’ the library or refusing to go out because of an upcoming deadline. I swear that I’ve gotten that, “She doesn’t even go here!” look like five times when settling in next to an upperclassman on the second floor.

First of all, freshers deserve to be in the library just as much as upperclassmen. We aren’t animals, you know. Freshers are capable of silently sitting in the library and making good use of its resources too. Except for the other day, when I was starving and had to sneakily devour some Starbursts whilst on the second floor, we can’t all follow the rules.

Also, it is near impossible to get anything done in the halls.

Have you ever tried to write an essay while the rest of your hall is getting drunk and singing Lady Gaga in the hallway? No. Why is that? Because most upperclassmen have the nice privacy of their very own flats. In halls, the very concept of privacy is laughed at. And then spit upon.

Fellow freshers, I feel your pain. I’m here to fill in your mum’s job and tell you that you deserve good things. So walk on down to the library … sit in any seat you bloody well desire. Sit in it with pride. Feels good, doesn’t it? That’s right, it does.