I have a running joke with myself at the minute. It’s about how disappointed “first year me” would be to witness the number of hours “third year me” spends in the library. If you’ve ever watched How I Met Your Mother you’ll understand the concept of treating yourself as seperate people depending on what time- it’s quite common in HIMYM for the characters to brush off a problem with “oh I’ll let future me deal with that”.
But I digress… to a point.
I was surrounded by second years today in the library all in the final flurry of deadlines. The same goes for me too, except while my deadlines were a few weeks away theirs are on Friday. And while I’m sat at home after three hours finishing up that final 1,089 words… they’re still there two hours later having barely written 200.
Not that I’m judging, I was exactly the same last year. First year I essentially waited until hours prior to the deadline to start a 2,000 word assignment. And let me reassure you, it shows in my grades. In first year I was lucky to hit mid 50s, I remember my first ever 2:1 (an assignment I’d written after leaving a club at 2am, with the deadline at 4pm). I was in shock.
Essentially I think it was the same reaction as my first 74% this year.
But otherwise I’ve been “comfortable”.
Admittedly I think I’m getting old. While in first year I’d go out, without fail, every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday now I’m about to come up to a fortnight of not going out. Though by going out I mean the full clubbing, £5 entry and up until 4am malarky because I do still go to the pub.
I was always told it would happen by my previous third year friends and I laughed it off. Now it’s me shaking my head at my younger friends.
Though I’m not going to lie, I’m going to enjoy watching them suffer through their dissertations next year.