Freshers: Leave the library, you don’t need to be here
Aka: fuck off our turf, first years.
It’s crunch time. You need to pull back all the dicking about of the last year and cram the whole course into the next month. A difficult, but do-able task, as demonstrated by our many procrastinating brothers and sisters before us.
Nothing can stop you now, you know what you need to do. With a delicious but overly priced smoothie in your bag, your laptop on your desk with all social media tabs blocked for the foreseeable future and the silence of the library at your disposal, anything, even a cheeky first, is possible.
But here’s the rub: you can’t get a seat in the library because it’s been swarmed by try-hard first years who have forgotten the benefits of what is essentially a year-long, guilt-free piss up.
During exam period, seats in the library are more valuable than queue jump on the last Friday of term. Freshers are taking up precious room so they can reply to their mate’s Facebook tales of how they’re shagging their way across South East Asia.
You don’t care about how they found themselves in Bali or want to take their advice on how to spend your hotly anticipated summer.
The pictures of crudely drawn henna that they did themselves do not matter, and neither do their travelling buddies they met in a hostel full of Geordies.
And for the couples, just because you’ve been away from each other for a few weeks doesn’t entitle you to salivate over your lover in silent study. Use the toilets. It’s what they’re there for.
Stay in halls, be hungover, watch The US Office back to back to the point where Netflix asks if you’re still there. Leave the seats for the people who need to pull their lives back on track and prove to their parents they haven’t just been in a £9,000 drunken haze for the past two to three years.
The lack of consideration is astounding – do they not know what a whisper is? Either you sat on the speaker for three hours feeling the vibes, or simply haven’t washed your ears since starting uni but a freshers version of a whisper and the actual definition are two very different things.
Your accommodation package entitles you to free internet and free heating. The Wi-Fi is bad enough without half the powerpoint presentations from missed lectures without you streaming the latest Boiler Room set.
Everyone has their finals, everyone is in a constant state of panic, everyone needs someone to tell them everything will be fine, no one is able to be that person because everyone is studying for their finals. You see the vicious circle here?
Gone are the days when we can dick around so now we’re in the library, picking up the pieces. You don’t need to see this.
You may have gone home, smelling of booze and regret, and enjoyed a month of mollycoddling by the mum so happy to have their little soldier home. They don’t care about your drinking problem or shit beard yet.
First year doesn’t count. You can turn up, a little battered, smash out a 62 and leave. Save your energy and get the hell out of the library.