September 09, 2011

Testing the water…

So, do any students actually read blogs? I've only just noticed that they actually exist. Well, out of sheer procrastination I have decided to treat all one of you to a serving of whinings, complaints and below the belt humour.

I've come back from a year abroad, and have completely forgotten how to write an essay. The weather here in Manchester is completely shit, there is absolutely no optimism present on this harsh Thursday morning.

I'm sure I'm not the only student out there who loves the first couple of weeks back at home, what with the warmth and the free food, and waking up every morning without any sense of worry for what lies ahead. Weeks 3 and 4 pass by and sure, you are still in the honeymoon period and you're catching up with old friends and spending Mum and Dad's money.

During weeks 5 and 6 and Mum and Dad, who work everyday, seem to grow a little impatient and politely ask you if there's anything you should be doing career wise like getting a job, or if you wouldn't mind doing a bit of cleaning around the house. And sure, I'll do my bit to keep the peace. 7 and 8, and things are getting tense. Discussions turn into arguments, banter turns into offence, requests turn into nags. It's all starting to become a teensy bit unpleasant.

Weeks 9 and 10: it's war. Turned out of bed at 9am, cries of "What are you doing with your life?!" echo around the house, which was initially this welcome place of rest but has now become a high walled prison. To minimise the damage, you seek shelter in rooms where they are not but they always find you. Always. You cannot even find solace in your friends because everybody seems to go back earlier than Warwick students.

The final two weeks and suddenly an unspoken truce descends upon the house. Both parties realise that this is it. They will separate for another 3 months until Christmas and for the sake of the faaaamily, everyone has to be nice to each other. So, putting aside the way that Mum walks into the TV room and natters on the phone for a good hour, or how Dad walks into a restaurant and realises that he's forgotten the precious discount vouchers, you clench your teeth, smile, and get on with it.

Why? Because they're alright, actually.


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