“Oh, you are a university student? You are so lucky! Enjoy it, those will be the best years of your life.” yeaah…. I am not so sure about that man. It is one in the morning and I can’t fall asleep, because I am stressed out of my mind. And the best part? The semester hasn’t even started yet.
So basically, those “best years” consist of two semesters every years… each semester is stressful as hell at the beginning and the end… So you get like two stressful months at the beginning because of all the formalities and making sure that you enrolled for the right classes and that you properly managed all the other important stuff, and later on you get another two stressful months of exam period. And that’s the fall semestr, where we luckily have the summer holidays. In the winter semestr you have the beginning stress and stress from the exam period in one nice package. AAAAnd of course there is everything in the middle, the awesome time you have to manage your relationships, money and other adult stuff… which, if you are like me, is also very very veeeery stressful.
So basically you’re all telling me, that these are the best years of my life… the years when I am in constant stress and panic mode, I can’t sleep, I have no appetite, meantime I am trying to manage my job, and overall I am not handling this well… but it’s good to hear that those “real” adult years of only working will be even worse… can’t wait… having a master degree that is good for nothing and little to no work experiences… what the heck am I gonna do. I should take this blogging hobby more seriously and become a full-time blogger or whatever, because otherwise I can just about cry my eyes out.
As I said before, it’s one in the morning and I have not really a clue where I was going with this… and because everything else coming to my mind is basically existential crisis, I better stop now.
Just a little insight of a student’s mind… at one o’clock am… what a time to be alive
There were only a few of us left. Outside was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining and the first time in months it was actually warm. Yet we were here, in this dark and cold cave, with only dim light shining through the small aperture. We weren’t supposed to be here anymore, the torture was over, the freedom was so close… but we couldn’t go. Slowly but surely it was coming towards us, but it was still out of reach, our ticket to freedom. Not everyone was strong enough. The darkness was pulling me into its grasp, I started hysterically laughing, tears falling down my cheeks. I wasn’t the only one. The individual next to me was trying to joke, ease up the situation, but there was no use. We were all so desperate, knowing that even if we get out of here, even worse things are about to come. Not only were we getting depressed of the absence of light, but our hunger was making itself known. Most of us hadn’t eaten in days. There were some that straight up gave in, lying there without signs of life.
It was closer and closer. We could feel its presence. We couldn’t wait to get our hands on it, till finally! The attendance sheet got into our reach, twenty minutes after the end of the lecture. We signed it and got the hell out of that forbidden place, knowing that it was the last lecture of the semester and exam period was coming. Suddenly we wished that we could sit there forever, waiting for our ticket to freedom, because everything was better than the upcoming stressful days.
Sometimes I feel like my life is one big irony. When I was younger I wondered what it would be like if I went home in the direction as my friends did and whether my mom’s friend was more than just a friend… Now my parents are divorced (not because my mom was unfaithful or anything, my dad is just emotionally constipated and they lasted together longer then most people expected), my mom’s married to that friend and I moved in with her… Later on as I had to apply for colleges I wondered what if I didn’t get into one – but that’s ridiculous right? Everybody gets accepted… well everybody except me it seems. As I didn’t get into college I moved out across my little republic and I’m living happily with my boyfriend and I am a zero-year student at English and American studies… Since a big part of my life are TV series and one of the repeating themes is choosing whether to pursue career or love, I’ve always wondered what would I choose – well surprise surprise the time has come that I actually have to choose. I am twenty years old and I have to decide whether to move back into my hometown and study the most prestigious university in my country or stay where I am with my boyfriend who’s also studying here and continue the school I am in… I’ve not been accepted yet so I’m pushing that decision as far as I can, but eventually I will have to decide and it won’t be an easy decision. I’m scared and confused. I am worried that my relationship wouldn’t last if I moved away, but that university would bring me much better future. It’s a hard decision, a decision that shouldn’t have come so soon, yet here I am and I have no clue how all of this will turn out.
This year is my first exam period ever and it is quite an interesting experience. I’m not so stressed as other students, as I have much less credit tests than others. So far, I have passed all of them except one, but to be honest, not many students passed linguistics as it is hard as hell. I’ve never in my life heard so many strange terms… like do you have any clue what “isogloss” is? Or hypernymy x hyponymy…. Yeah never heard of those either, which makes me so happy that I have to re-sit this subject. Learning history of Great Britain in span of one evening was a fun experience, but the facts that actually stuck in my head, were historical gossips. For some uncertain reason, I love rumours from the past whether they are about kings, authors or mystical unexplainable events. For example, did you know that William the Conqueror was supposedly so fat that he didn’t even fit in his own sarcophagus? Or that Edward II was killed by a hot poker stuck in his ass? Or my very favourite – one legend has it that Eadwig was late to his own consecration and was found by bishop Dunstan in bed with a prostitute and her mother. The disturbance pissed him off so much that he expelled the bishop. You just simply don’t disturb a man during his pleasures for something so meaningless as consecration.
Learning American history was completely different experience, since I had only one night, no study materials and only John Green’s Crash Course to save me (and trust me that without this masterpiece I would be lost for sure). I managed to watch 15 of 34 (10-15 minutes long) videos. Unfortunately, that covered only a quarter of the exam and I passed only by a miracle.
I hope to perform better in the next semester. Now I at least know how it all works and let’s hope for the best in the future.