Looking back on my journey through the big and awesome territory called Life, my childhood wonderings, and my teenage affectations were like a little wander in the garden and a little walk in the local park. All very close to home, and safely bounded by the Hedgerows of Familiarity. Leaving home to go to university was like packing a metaphorical rucksack with the accumulated wisdom of my eighteen years on this planet (I travelled light!), and setting off with nothing but the Compass of Curiosity to guide me on road to adulthood.<\/p>\n
I had absolutely no idea where I was headed. Some people know from a very early age what they will be doing when they \u2018grow up\u2019, or at least, what they would like to do. They want to be racing drivers or musicians, firemen or doctors, teachers or carpenters, writers or mothers. And some of us are just drifters \u2013 wandering about, taking in the sights, hanging out with fellow travellers for a while now and then, and hoping that a bed for the night and a bit of dinner will turn up when we need it. <\/p>\n
I applied to do Psychology at university for two very simple and laudable reasons. Firstly, I knew nothing much about it and so hadn\u2019t already become bored or disillusioned with it at school, and secondly, it was the only subject for which I could get an offer of a university place, without having to go for an interview first. In those days it wasn\u2019t such a popular subject. In addition, the university I opted for as my first choice was one that allowed you to cover three subjects equally in the first year, and then change your mind about which one you wanted to major in after that. So instead of applying to do English Literature, having to get through an interview, and achieve high grades at A level, I could apply to do Psychology, get offered a place on the basis of relatively low grades and no interview, and then change my mind and do English anyway. Even at that young age I was a fan of keeping my options open, and of finding loopholes to exploit.<\/p>\n
I somehow managed to get just-good-enough grades to get into my chosen university. Unlike many of the other first year students, who arrived in large cars with tearful parents and vast quantities of homey paraphernalia, I arrived alone at the place where I was to spend the next three years of my impressionable life with one suitcase full of all my worldly belongings, an alarming lack of useful life skills, and a stomach-churning dread of meeting new people.<\/p>\n
There’s nothing like a deep-end experience to get you swimming. (Although, come to think of it, it was precisely such an experience on a school lesson a decade earlier that had put me off swimming for life). Within a week I had two new best friends, a corridor-full of drinking buddies, and a campus-full of potential life-partners. I signed up for the courses I wanted to study (randomly picking Linguistics as the third subject because it sounded so exotic), checked out all the college social venues, and settled down to enjoy the new, green pastures of student life.<\/p>\n
Just as youth is wasted on the young, good libraries are wasted on students. If I was at university now, you would probably find me with my nose buried in a book in a quiet corner of the library at almost any hour of the day or night. But in those days, the library was the last place I wanted to be. Just like many students before me, and many students after me, I spent most of the best years of my life in the bar. <\/p>\n
I missed many lectures, seminars and deadlines. I missed my boyfriend-from-home, but only for a little while. I missed opportunities to improve my mind, develop my skills, and learn about What Really Mattered, but I never missed an opportunity for a cheap drink or a party. But for all that, somehow I still learnt some Useful Stuff.<\/p>\n
I learnt that I could drink three and a half pints of Newcastle Brown before feeling sick. I learnt that deadlines could always be extended. I learnt that Mitigating Circumstances were very useful shovels for getting out of self-made holes. I learnt that a \u00a3500 overdraft doesn\u2019t go very far. I learnt that holiday jobs in factories are a very good way to make time seem interminable. I learnt that Psychology was actually quite an interesting subject. I learnt that highly respected academics Make Stuff Up. I learnt that, by working flat out for three days, I could satisfactorily complete all the essays I had failed to complete in a year, and actually kind of enjoy it.<\/p>\n
I also learnt that I no longer felt at home, at home. I learnt that \u201cout of sight \u2013 out of mind\u201d was truer than \u201cabsence makes the heart grow fonder\u201d. I learnt that being decisive was not my strong point. I learnt that you can never go back.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t learn Who I Was, or The Purpose of my Existence. I didn\u2019t learn what I wanted to Do With My Life. I didn\u2019t learn how to drive, how to type, how to cook, how to live within a budget, or how to Take Life Seriously. <\/p>\n
I did however learn, from a very crackly conversation on the phone at the back of the student bar, that my mother had breast cancer. I also learnt that I was self-centred and uncompassionate. <\/p>\n
And I learnt that guilt is a heavy cross to bear.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Looking back on my journey through the big and awesome territory called Life, my childhood wonderings, and my teenage affectations were like a little wander in the garden and a little walk in the local park. All very close to … Continue reading