Today is the last day of August. Therefore if I do not blog today, I will only have blogged twice in the whole month, and that, even for me, is truly shameful. So join me on this quest to fill my small allotment in cyberspace with more of my useless nonsense and bewildering anecdotes.
Which reminds me.
I had a dream the other night. And it sticks in my mind because, unlike most of my dreams, it was shockingly normal. It almost could have happened in real life. Basically, in my dream, I was sat in Costa (See? Costa! Not a siberian brothel, or the inside of an elephants anus. Utterly, bizarrely normal) talking to a friend who is about to bugger off to uni for the best years of his life. He wasn't very exited though. In fact, he said he was really nervous about making friends, and asked me for a few good conversation starters to use at freshers week. After rejecting my best ones ('Fancy a shag? Go oon, it won't take long' and the ever sucessful 'Like me, please like me, oh god why won't you like me?!') I lost my patience and asked him what the hell he was so nervous about. He looked at me like I was a twat in a furry cowboy hat. Which, to be fair, was half right.
'I'm going to UNI. I know nobody. No one knows me. No one knows each other. I've reached the top of grownupiness, yeah? But basically, we're all a bunch of clueless teenagers who are gunna be stuck together in a bunch of rooms sharing a kitchen and all trying to pretend we're grown up, when actually we all really really miss having our mums wash our socks. And more to the point, what if we don't like each other? Theres no going back now. I spent ages filling out that bloody UCAS form. And my mum would kill me if I backed out now, kill me like a bug. And then refuse to wash my socks.'
I looked at him blankly for a second, then told him (in what I like to think was a sympathetic manner) to stop being such a pussy and pack his socks. Shortly after, I woke up, marvelled at the normalness of my dream, and fell back to sleep only to have a nightmare involving train-jacking carrots.
The dream did get me thinking though. In one year, if all goes well in the results and financial departments, I too will be buggering off to uni. I have looked forward to this ever since I understood the concept of uni (the concept being there are no parents and no one really gives a shit if you skip lectures). It is, to all teenagers who managed to scrape the results for sixth form, the shimmering dream on the horizon of shite that gets us through A levels, parental screaming, teachers nagging and the all round annoyance of not being quite 18. University is freedom.
But!
What if you get to freedom and it turns out to actually be a little bit wank? What if you have to share a bathroom with a posh girl who moans about missing her cat, and it rains all the time, and you have no money for booze? What if you start your course and realise it actually isnt what you want to do with your life? What if run out of money for accomodation half way through your second year and have to give up and go home?
Of course, I don't really expect any of this to happen. In my mind, university will be fucking great no matter what because i'll be truly doing my own thing for the first time ever. And if I have to share a bathroom with an upper-class cat-lover and take out loans i'll need to leave the country to escape then so be it. But nevertheless, the dream has made me start looking at university a bit more realistically (i.e. not as a giant 3 year party/solver of all my problems) which I suppose can only be a good thing.
Plus, I have to get in there first. Hmmm.
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