The need to get out of here
I spent the weekend on the coast, in Britain’s smallest capital city Cardiff. (A church that serves a small parish is called a cathedral there.) It was nice and relaxing to be away, the weather was crisp and clear. We decided to take it quite easy, and so we did.
Coming back to campus, or to be more honest, already on the train back to Canley, I started to think those thoughts again. Four more weeks, three assessed essays. Literature study, thinking process, writing words, cutting words. It just made me a little bit tired. And then campus: the same familiar faces wherever you go, academic departments mark every road you walk through and the spectrum of conversation is rather limited: “essays, union nights, future plans”.
It made me think of a Monday morning some weeks ago when I was trying to get out of the library. One or two of the electronic gates were behaving technically disordered, as usual. A technician was on the spot, surrounded by a toolbox and flocks of us, students. He was speaking on the phone – as I walked past, I caught a few words of his conversation. “I’m surrounded by students here”, he said, “I want to get out of here as quickly as possible”. I smirked. How right he was.