Tag Archives: student life

The latest goings-on in Sarah world…


Well, the good news is I got the job. The bad news is, I hate it and I’m already ill (Fresher’s Flu I imagine).

Started on Friday night. The other staff are lovely so that’s always a win, but since coming back to work they’ve done some serious job cutting and now we’re severely understaffed, though mgmt don’t seem to realise it. I’m not going to go into the ins and outs of serving students, but I am seriously knackered, and have barely had time to catch up with myself before starting another shift. Going to have to have a chat with Mrs Boss about cutting down my hours so I can actually concentrate on my degree, although having money is nice.

Also went out on Friday night with my housemates. Well 2 of them. One had her French boyfriend over so we thought we’d give them the house to have plenty of loud-lover-time together without us hearing it. Not sure in that situation who would be more embarrassed. Anyway, was a fabby night. We danced for a bit then went to socialise on the smoking terrace, where my friends all fell in love with a guy with a very hairy chest (I admit that I thought he was fit too until he stood up and I realised I was taller than him). I eventually started chatting to some other guy, who was also rather pretty, I gave him my number but forgot to take his. Ahh well, shit happens!

Since then, my life has revolved around getting up and going to work, then coming home and doing it all again. It’s very tiring and I hope to have a life again soon before I get to the brink of insanity.

Had a very weird dream about my old geography teacher last night, that he took us on a tour of the world in 2030, and everyone was transported around on log-flumes. I don’t know what my subconscious is playing at!

Anyway ciao fellas!


Packing up for final year…

Packing up for final year…

When you first start university, you’re excited at the prospect of going back every semester to see all your friends, have some privacy from the parents and to rearrange your tiny bedroom/ hovel each time you get back. Now that I’ve done the year abroad and lived in 4 different places over the last 15 months (twice France, twice Germany) I am a little fed up of that “living out of a suitcase” feeling. It gets tiring doing all this packing, then unpacking it all again the next day, the long journeys, waiting around in airports and just in case I don’t mention it enough, the hours spent folding clothes and hanging them up, then knowing you’ll have to do it all over again in 3 months time. Call me a grumpy pessimist all you like, that’s just the way I see it. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy my year abroad (because it was actually bloody brilliant), I just really hate packing!

This year, I know it won’t be the last time- in fact, with the jobs I have in mind, I could be doing this for years to come, but I thought I’d rant about it anyway. There are several emotions that you go through whilst packing, which I thought I’d share…

1) Elation- that I will be leaving this rainy Lancashire climate, for what I hope will be a slightly warmer one “down South” in Leicester (My fingers are crossed). The ultimate joy of course is the prospect of seeing all the friends that I haven’t seen for a year, as well as those that I have.

2) Boredom- I absolutely loathe folding clothes and trying to make the place I’m about to leave tidy for when I next come back and so that my mother doesn’t feel the need to come in and spring clean.

3) Nostalgic- It’s only times like this when you come across tokens from the past, big and small of memories such as nights out, old tickets from trips away, ex-boyfriends clothes, family pictures and strangely I found myself having a laugh reading old school reports “Sarah really needs to put more focus into her work if she wishes to succeed”.

4) Stressed- I always leave it really late, then you realise there are still many so many things you want to do before you leave like saying goodbye to friends, then damn, you forgot to send off that really important form which will get you money whilst you’re away, and oh shit, where the fuck are the keys and details of how to get into the new house????

5) A teensy bit guilty- for ranting about boring Lancashire is to Mum. Asking all the time why ever they thought to move to Lancaster of all places in Britain, was there nowhere more exciting/ warmer we could have gone, then leaving her here alone for a few months (we’re all grown ups in our family now, well maybe not me). I make a note to myself that I must remember to ┬ácall the parents more often than I currently do, drop them alone and let them know I didn’t drown in a pool of my own vomit outside a club.

Hope you enjoyed my rant. Big loves and peace out!