It turns out that being a student is much more time consuming than one might think! I haven’t posted in a while and I’m sorry for that. But I give to you, my very own version of ‘Blogmas 2014’. This is a challenge where one writes everyday in the lead up to christmas. At the best of times, I have the will power of a sloth, so this will be an interesting experiment for me, as well as a fun way to take time out to do what I love and write! The topic for today: being a grown-up.
I’ve had a taste of independence and I have to admit… it’s pretty terrifying. Yet at age 18 independent is what every teenager is expected to be in England; If you’ve read any of my previous blogs (particularly the ones which document my mental breakdown the day before my birthday), You’ll realise that this societal ‘expectation’ is a touchy topic for me. At university, you’re on your own. Mummy isn’t there to cook your meals anymore! The worst part is realising how much money you spend on food. Throwing away a mouldy slice of bread feels like I’m throwing away my own child. You find yourself buying things you never even knew you had to buy… like cleaning products! I must have thought that magical faeries bought that stuff, and I never fully appreciate how much it cost my parents.
When the university give me my grant, I find myself asking ‘Why are you trusting me with all of this money?… fools! I’m going to Greece!!?’. Then I remember, that they think I’m a responsible grown-up, who understands that without this money, I will become an uneducated hobo. These are the nightmares that make me curl up into a ball of insanity and rock myself to sleep.
But then you step outside the terrifying box of adulthood, and you see how cool university is. It’s basically like summer camp with a lot more essays. You’re surrounded by people of the same age, who hate the concept of adulthood just as much as you do. No-one judges you for being tight (or when you seethe over that 20p you lost… grr!) because they are in the same expensive boat, slowly rocking up a life time debt, that will never be repaid (gotta love the government!).
As I ring my mother, and ask her how to poach an egg, can I truly be considered a ‘grown-up’?
When I have to consult google on how to separate clothing, does society really see me as a ‘grown-up’?.If university has taught me anything (apart from my degree of course), it is that grown up life begins when university ends. Only then can I begin to be terrified.
For a ‘Blogmas’ blog, this post isn’t too festive… On a more Christmassy note, I opened my advent calendar today. No joy is greater than tearing open that tin foil lining.
And they call me a grown up …