For me, entering final year was something that I would have dreaded adamantly back in fresher year when every worry that surrounds me now was a million miles away.  Days of skipping class, watching DVD marathons and socialising at every possible opportunity were just some of the activities that consumed the life of a carefree humanities student.

BY JASON GALLAGHER

This all changed of course when I entered second year and realised that getting above 40% in my exams was not all that was required of me, although, I can’t confess to ending all previous listed activities.

Then, another student year later, the last hurdle that is final year needed jumped.  Within the first few weeks the scale of the work I needed to accomplish was as daunting as sinking 6 flatliners in the Eg, which believe me is no easy task.  Arguably the two most pressing issues were getting my grades up and what I was going to do when I finish.

The first would become a test of will and perseverance, a challenge that I am still trying to achieve and one that will decide whether I feel I have done my best whilst at university, something, that will have a massive bearing I feel in later years.   Secondly, for many soon to be graduates, what we do after is a constant thought at the back of your head with many sleepless hours deciphering how your dream ambition, if you have one, can be fulfilled while taking into account realities such as family commitments, funding and entry requirements.  These dreams might include studying for a post-graduate qualification, travelling or simply doing nothing (and yes, I do know people who harbour that ambition).  With some masters courses looking as much a £7000, it is enough to dampen any spirit of quick commercial success that fill a lot of our heads with graduation and employment in our sights.  Funding therefore, for those without government financial aid or rich parents becomes the stopping block to one’s ambition, forcing you to waste a year working full time and reluctantly living with your parents.

Furthermore, without me aiming to have you ring the Samaritans with depression, final year will mute any anticipation you have for fun, a commodity that you used to be accustomed to every week.   This is the result of the dramatic increase in required tutorial reading or upcoming essays thrown at you.  While this may sound grim and something a non-final year student might see as absurd, but nights out will become a fortnightly chore with the thought of a hangover for morning class enough to make you think twice before downing another jaeger-bomb.

It’s just one of those things when you get older; life does get dull, maturity will strike you (at least a little) and the thought of graduation and leaving undergraduate life behind will soon become as appealing as playing rounder’s in good ole Elms Village.