I remember how I used to long for the summer. How I used to count down the days until exams were over and I could relax. There would be sweetness in knowing that I didn’t have to go to school for eight glorious weeks; a feeling magnified last summer when I finished my A-levels and looked forward to a future I could only imagine.
That future has exceeded all expectation. My first year at Warwick has been the best year of my life, and although I am glad to have finished exams once again, it is the coming final four weeks of term which I am looking forwards to – not the summer holidays. For going home involves leaving this place and all the people who I have come to love here and – although next year is just around the corner – I just don’t want my first year at university to end.
The solution to this, I feel, is to make the most of the next month. I shall be writing as much as I can, preparing for my term as editor of PolSoc’s Perspectives magazine next year and lots of obligatory partying. Another night at Warwick’s infamous Skool Dayz is on the horizon, as well as the summer party. More importantly, I am sure I will have many chilled-out film nights with the brilliant friends I have made here, and I am sure that they will, as ever, descend into late night conversations and side-splitting laughter. At the end of the day, it is those un-photographed moments which are the essence of the university experience.
Amongst all the frivolity I will also be searching high and low for writing opportunities and summer work experience. I expect this will involved sending many an email and not receiving many responses, but that’s just the way journalism works. As they say, you’ve got to be in it to win it, so in it I shall be. Successful or not, at least looking for work teaches you a lot about the industry. I’ll let you know how I get on.
And I guess going home won’t be all that bad! I’ve got a girls’ holiday to Barcelona to look forward to, and seeing all my old friends. And of course, I shall be swapping the calmness of campus for the hubbub of my beloved London. Really, I can’t complain. Another year of education may be over, but there’s a whole lot of fun to come.