The circle of life...

... well, of student life.

Today was the official first day of Fresher's Week 2010. The city is yet again in full bloom with bewildered faces and those innocent eyes that are soon to be corrupted by the evils of student life. They seem to prowl the streets in groups, large groups. After all, even the lowest of animals (like fish, for instance) know that there is safety in numbers.

I had to fight the urge to tell them many a wise thing. On the sly, I was curious to spot signs of genuine fear in their eyes - sadly I was unsuccessful. Perhaps they were relieved they weren't in high school hell anymore, or just simply happy to be free from mom and dad's clutches (oh how soon that gloat will pass).

What I wanted to tell them was that university is a test. It's not an easy test. Neither is it a multiple choice test. Most of all it's not a test that you can study for. Nay, but rather, it's a kind of test that you have never taken before. This test called university presents itself with the opportunity to re-invent yourself, to be whatever you always wanted to be (or at least thought you wanted to be).

However, en route to this wonderful fulfilment of finging yourself, one needs to avoid many a temptation. Drugs. Alcoholism. Laziness. Loneliness. Allnighters. But worst of all, one must learn to avoid getting lost in the crowd, where it is safe, and trod one's own route through the forest of life.

This path is beautiful. It's scary. But it's the only on that eventually leads to fulfilment.

To end in a slightly less poetic note, our local milkman said he hadn't seen me for a while. Granted, we had moved 5 minutes down the road so my usual route had been diverted accordingly. I said 'well, I'm not a student anymore'. His reply? 'you still look like one'. Echoing this sad truth, I got ID'd when buying half-price wine in Tesco.



So, what has changed? Not much. Yes, I may be employed and no longer inhabit mice-infested, rotting, safety-hazardous student flats and have instead moved onto greener pastures, literally (see photo). I am still a scared, living-on-a-shoestring teenage girl to the outside world. Apparently.