This week is all change. To work with this theme, I’ve decided to try something new this week. My second excuse is that it’s Chinese New Year. As I’m struggling to keep up with my currently-crazy life, I decided to write down everything that happened. Like my diary, but with much less personal information. Probably. I am eternally grateful that my column is ‘untitled’; creativity is hard to tailor. As a history student, I find it very exciting reading through memoirs and diaries of people way-back-when. Granted, these are far more interesting than your British-22-year-old-female-undergraduate-stroke-barista-stroke-writer-stroke-chatterbox, so I’ll endeavor to exaggerate copious amounts. Naturally.

Life as a female undergraduate is no longer the simple equation of books and parties. Gone are the days where we were able to focus on just one thing, and spend some time living life. Ask any female undergraduate; the pressure to be good at everything is upon us. I try to believe men don’t have it easier in life, but evidence is sometimes to the contrary. Learning that both the sexist males in the Celebrity Big Brother house won was incredibly depressing. It led me to overreaction, which involved the acknowledgement of all the sexist things in the world. Why they don’t make gingerbread women? In dealing with the last term of my third year studying history, I have found myself in the library every day. Living library-life, I have been guilty of committing library crimes such as hiding books in the wrong areas, and lying on the floor before tweeting about doing so. The security guards are not yet my friends, but when you are trying to contain 10 historians’ ideas on one essay in your head with a 13-book-limit (why) and the small matter of a dissertation; you no longer fret about judgment.

Parties and nights-out help you to deal with this pressure. When all of your friends are practically getting married due to the combination of Valentines’ Day and graduation approaching, there is only one solution; going to a club on sports’ night. Making my way through the muscle, I realized we are still so young. Who needs a man? Instead, I’ll drunk-text the (very-good-looking) guy that I’m pretending not to like. Bumping into the person who ruined your life in first year can only make for incredibly embarrassing conversation. Do not attempt to prove how much better your life now is by listing new things in your life/saying that you have changed. Walk away. Onion rings from a kebab shop don’t make any of this better, especially when you proceed to eat them off your hall carpet with your best friend who you lost in the club for the majority of the night (I don’t think she even knows where she was.) Oh, drink responsibly: there really is nothing worse than overdoing it.

To all female undergraduates; when it gets complicated, try to remember what you are at university for. Coping with your head being in so many different places at once is tricky, and prioritizing when you have 539 options can be difficult. My best friend of 11 years is currently sailing around Sweden. How amazing? This has not only helped me to polish-up on my geography, but to realize that with a little hard work, you really can achieve what you want to do. This realization was confirmed upon receiving an invite for priority-application from Emerson College in Boston during a student-rep meeting which took an entire day to believe. Use your time wisely!

N.B. These occurrences are slightly exaggerated for entertainment purposes.