Third Year Blues

So, October is rearing its head once and again and that means only one thing for students across the country - the start of a new year at uni. We're all leaving the comfort of our parents home's once again to live off a diet of Asda smart price noodles and cheap vodka

. 

It's that time of year when attempting to avoid the minefield of drunken, over-friendly freshers has once again become top of the agenda when attending any bar/club. We're all full of hope and promise that 'this will be the year I don't put off EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF WORK UNTIL THE VERY LAST MINUTE', when deep down we all know a leopard never changes its spots (and student living breeds laziness).

Unfortunately, I've finally reached the dreaded third year. It's crazy to think that just two years ago, I was one of those lost looking, butter-wouldn't-melt first years. I can't imagine a life that doesn't involve spontaneous mid-week nights out, microwave meals for one and 80p drinks deals (thank you Kaos).

This year it's supposedly time to settle down and admit that life cannot be this simple forever. I may actually have to stay in and do some work, write some essays, do some procrastinating, attempt an FMP, procrastinate some more and hopefully come up with something half decent to show for the last three years of my life. 

If you're not a student you certainly can't justify sitting in front on Jeremy Kyle for hours on end. 

Or getting out of bed half way through the day. 

Or wearing pajama bottoms to the local Tesco.

Or classing flyering outside clubs as a 'part-time job'.

Or only spending a tenner on a night out.

Or justifying anything with 'it's OK I'm a student'.

Oh my God, I've changed my mind. I want to be a student for ever.