it happens to us all. One woeful September morning when the Devonshire sun is shining and
the caws of seagulls are gently caressing your dozing ears you find yourself waking up and
thinking ‘f***. I’m a third year.’ Now, don’t get me wrong, there are certain perks to the third year lifestyle; maybe you can recognise a solid third of your course, or own enough stash to essentially take you back to wearing a school uniform. Maybe you can even successfully navigate Amory, or maybe not. Regardless, the realisation that your university clock is ticking is bound to induce a certain amount of panic, or at least it did for me.
I’ve found myself in a state of mild frenzy trying to undo two years of apathy in a desperate attempt to live the remainder of my university life to the full. ‘But how does one live
university life to the full?’ I hear you cry. Well, young Padawan, let me pass down the knowledge that every well-meaning parent, lecturer and prospectus alike will repeat until your ears bleed: Join a society. And how does one join a society? Freshers week.
Now, freshers week is not the same beast at all for the average previously-apathetic third year. A short lived burst of first-year enthusiasm led to me joining rowing (hah!) and a crash course
on how to burn through your student loan by shelling out on problematic costumes for tp socials and (you may need to sit down for this one) £160 of lycra kit that I never even
collected. Needless to say I was somewhat jaded. I didn’t even set foot on campus for my second year freshers, so to re-emerge as a participating member of society at the grand old
age of twenty seemed quite the challenge. But I did it. Despite showing up hungover to taster sessions and spending half the time desperately avoiding eye contact with that girl from two years below at school who seems to already know more third years than I do, I actually had a good time. And yes, it’s a
struggle to match the enthusiasm of the bright-eyed bushy-tailed freshers who are yet to become disillusioned with another educational institution, and yes, it can be a bit awkward
when everybody knows each other already and you’re just that girl from that seminar last year, and yes, I do like lists of three. Yet look, here I am, writing for a society that I’ve joined,
a true success story. But really, I can’t emphasise this enough; just do it. Third year, fourth year, eleventh year medical student, I don’t care – it’s never too late to try something new.
