Today was the first day in a number of weeks where I actually had to get up for something. Admittedly I only had to get up at ‘midday’ – but it started to make me wonder how I’ll establish a routine again, or if I will actually bother. Today was the induction into my second year of university, which involved sitting in a large but sparsely populated lecture theatre to listen to various things that we had already been told at some point over the last year. Needless to say my mind began to wander and the notes that I planned on taking soon became a drawing of a wolf in a suit. On completion of the wolf I realised I hadn’t really listened to a word the lecturer had said, though looking up at the PowerPoint briefly reassured me that it was all stuff I’d seen before. However, it made me wonder how difficult people find getting back into the whole university swing of things after being home for months on end.
I discovered today that I only have lectures and seminars three days a week. It occurred to me that my routine needn’t change. As long as I spend more of my conscious hours doing the work that needs to be done I’ll be able to maintain my current precious sleeping habits. Though this isn’t the case for some people who have to get into a strict regime of waking up at 9am to a breakfast of earth and being back in bed before 12pm if they hope to get any work done.
As well as sleeping patterns, the other thing that I contemplated whilst day dreaming in the lecture was my inability to hold concentration whilst sitting in lectures. Hopefully this will change once I actually start my course and people are saying fascinating things but my minds quickly wanders when reality isn’t interesting enough. I’m not sure how to conquer this inability to actually listen to monotone people and boring subjects. Water is meant to be good for brain activity. Maybe drinking lots will reveal new tones to the drone-like voices.
Moving back into student accommodation is something I’ve had to get used to as well. At home the cupboards were rarely bare and when they were someone was usually out gathering tasty things to fill them with. When I stared into a barren cupboard this evening I knew that I’d have to cycle down to the shop if I wanted to eat. Cycling down there isn’t a problem, it’s deciding what to purchase that defeats me. Every time I go to Sainsbury’s I find myself wandering back and forth down the same isles staring blankly at a wall of tins and boxes thinking to myself “what the fuck was I here for?” Despite writing lists we always seem to run out of sufficient eatables within a couple of days. I’m going to attempt a ‘big shop’ tomorrow and get as much shit as I can cram into my backpack and more still in carrier bags attached to my handlebars. That way it’ll save me returning for a few days.
Then of course there’s monitoring money. Surviving gets expensive if you’re not careful with your cash. Living in Manchester where it isn’t unusual to pay over £3 a pint can easily lead to spending too much over a weekend finding yourself having to ration supplies. Though this could be looked at as a valuable life lesson. If you can learn to ration food and make what you have last as long as possible, then when the apocalypse eventually arrives with its zombie hordes or nuclear fallout (those are the best ones) you’ll be able to outlive your greedy competitors.