- Pronouns
- He/Him
This is going to be more of a rant than a story. It will also have lots of swearing in it, so read at your own discretion.
I fucking hate University. When I started thinking about what I wanted to do when I got older, University was at the top of my list. I saw it as the stepping stone, that would give me the qualifications I needed to go and get a job. I was so intent on going to University right up until it actually hit. My perceptions of the course I'm studying, university life, everything I had imagined was completely different to how it actually played out. Granted, the pandemic all but ruined my first year of university, but there's more to it than that. From the financial aspect to the societal aspect, fuck it all.
I remember travelling to my accomodation for the first time on what would be "fake freshers week." I was mildly nervous but excited at the same time to start my new chapter in life. As soon as my carers had gone, reality set in. I spent most of that first day bawling my eyes out because I was so nervous about starting Uni life. I hated that first week. Sure, I made some good friends but I never really felt like I fitted in. I'm someone who likes alone time. Parties and loud noises should be banned. I don't give a fuck, if you annoy me, I'm going to hate you for the rest of my life. Uni felt like a place for the extroverts, the party-goers, the exact opposite of me. I like staying in my room by myself, reading a book or watching documentaries. Up until December, I relatively enjoyed University. I saw my friends almost every day, I got by financially, I had few worries. Despite, me googling "how to drop out of university" on the first night, things did settle down. Until December.
I went home in early December for the Christmas break, expecting to return to campus on the 31st of January. The UK went into a lockdown during that time, and I have spent the whole of this semester doing all of my work from a desk in my room. I don't have time to write all of this now, I might edit it later, but I'm going to cut it short.
Fuck University. It's so much different from how I imagined it. I thought I would like my course, but it's so fucking boring I feel like I'm balding early. Fuck the people, too. The pretentious, loud, annoying knobheads who won't turn their fucking music off. Fuck money, too. I'm going to be in so much debt when I leave, and I'm going to fucking cry about it. I am incredibly close to dropping out, but I can't because I signed a binding contract for my second-year house, because I'm a fucking idiot.
Thank you, and goodbye.
I fucking hate University. When I started thinking about what I wanted to do when I got older, University was at the top of my list. I saw it as the stepping stone, that would give me the qualifications I needed to go and get a job. I was so intent on going to University right up until it actually hit. My perceptions of the course I'm studying, university life, everything I had imagined was completely different to how it actually played out. Granted, the pandemic all but ruined my first year of university, but there's more to it than that. From the financial aspect to the societal aspect, fuck it all.
I remember travelling to my accomodation for the first time on what would be "fake freshers week." I was mildly nervous but excited at the same time to start my new chapter in life. As soon as my carers had gone, reality set in. I spent most of that first day bawling my eyes out because I was so nervous about starting Uni life. I hated that first week. Sure, I made some good friends but I never really felt like I fitted in. I'm someone who likes alone time. Parties and loud noises should be banned. I don't give a fuck, if you annoy me, I'm going to hate you for the rest of my life. Uni felt like a place for the extroverts, the party-goers, the exact opposite of me. I like staying in my room by myself, reading a book or watching documentaries. Up until December, I relatively enjoyed University. I saw my friends almost every day, I got by financially, I had few worries. Despite, me googling "how to drop out of university" on the first night, things did settle down. Until December.
I went home in early December for the Christmas break, expecting to return to campus on the 31st of January. The UK went into a lockdown during that time, and I have spent the whole of this semester doing all of my work from a desk in my room. I don't have time to write all of this now, I might edit it later, but I'm going to cut it short.
Fuck University. It's so much different from how I imagined it. I thought I would like my course, but it's so fucking boring I feel like I'm balding early. Fuck the people, too. The pretentious, loud, annoying knobheads who won't turn their fucking music off. Fuck money, too. I'm going to be in so much debt when I leave, and I'm going to fucking cry about it. I am incredibly close to dropping out, but I can't because I signed a binding contract for my second-year house, because I'm a fucking idiot.
Thank you, and goodbye.