You’ve spent a shed-load on meal deals to get you through your library lock-in, ‘fun’ is a concept you can’t quite grasp since you first met your disso advisor and a single tear leaves your eye every time you see a young carefree fresher: yep, it’s that time in third year.
With deadlines piling up and the words ‘what next’ making every bit of small talk even more painful than it was to begin with, it’s safe to say that every finalist is in more or less the same (sinking) boat.
Final year is the year that some realise they’re going to miss that pungent smell of cheap bleach in that one lecture theatre; the year that others pull out grad scheme offers so often you hate them because they aren’t as mediocre as you; and the year that it dawns upon a couple that they have no bloody idea what they’re doing. Everyone’s response to the end of the student life ( 😢) isn’t a one-size-fits-all scenario in other words, but you’re bound to be one of these...
THE SPORTY ONE
Varsity day’s long gone, but your still loudly chanting the team song at the campus bar. Unable to let go of your BUCS victories and the drinking game wins that came with them is the girl/boy who will do anything to excel.
You’ll challenge anyone to a down-off and cherish the victory despite the headache you have to endure during your 9am; you don’t know the meaning of the word ‘lose’, foregoing Thursday’s reading deadline to discuss team tactics and train to the death; you’ll bet 50 quid you can run to that lamppost faster than someone else (You can. So you do).
You’ll pull yet another all-nighter the day before your lit review is due - more red bull in your bloodstream than, well, blood - because there’s nothing you love more than a challenge.
No one knows how you do it.
THE PUZZLED ONE
You're the guy or girl whose soul hurts the most when asked what your plans are after graduation. Studying a broad degree, the world being your oyster has backfired and now you know your classic ‘I’ve got some plans in the works’ line is wearing worryingly thin.
When you can bear it, a quick scroll on LinkedIn turns into a lucky dip of jobs you could take...which swiftly turns into an Instagram sesh...and then a nap...because you definitely don’t have the experience for said vacancies and sleep is the best remedy for the grad anxiety that hits you (paying 27 grand only to feel this way is rude). You haven’t been out in about two weeks so you could be a real third year, but with no way forward you’re seriously wondering why you missed out on Friday’s predrinks. You got talked into a psychic reading at Camden Market and even she saw nothing.
How are you doing? You literally do not know.
THE EXPERIENCED ONE
While everyone else has been tagging each other in sub-par memes and UniLAD videos throughout their undergrad years, you’ve been putting in some seriously hard graft.
A committee member of three societies, a second team footballer (your dribbling skills are second to none), a regular volunteer for several causes, summer school credentials, a stable job for the past few years, barista skills to die for and fluent in Spanish...there’s no end to your talents, and no end to what you could accomplish according to campus goss (you know everyone, you can’t help it).
Your yearly planner would put us all to shame. You walk out of the library having polished off your essay before anyone even knows they have an essay to polish off, and no one understands how you keep those dark circles at bay when you're covering a shift no less than an hour after your lecture together (which you actually did the reading for).