(Otherwise known as Jasp’s declassified Salford Survival Guide)
I write this as a means to procrastinate an essay due in for this Wednesday afternoon whilst listening to Paramore. I like to consider my priorities intact and that I’m using my time and resources to the best of my ability…yes, definitely.
I moved out of my home near Newcastle on September 15th, 2018, and nearly 2 months have passed since moving into my shared halls of residence. In that time, there has been:
- Approximately 20 nights out
- Absolutely no Gin drunk (get that out of here)
- All of Arctic Monkeys and (Insert generic Indie Band) listened to on a 24/7 basis because it’s the only music the majority of my flatmates like
- At least a few embarrassingly drunken stupors where your flatmates had to take care of you
- And around twice as many times you did that for them, realising fully why some people choose to have a Cat instead of a Child.
For the most part, moving into Uni, preparing for your course, and meeting new people is a smooth ride with plenty of fun experiences to look back on. Being an aspiring journalist and slight introvert, you learn to appreciate people who have the pleasure/burden of putting up with you for the next 3 years.
Sure, you’re bound to meet someone who you won’t get on with immediately or as smoothly as you’d hoped for. Before I devolve into a rant, you just have to accept somethings pan out that way, and the sooner you deal with that burning pan, the less likely you’re gonna jump into the fire with some people-strange simile? Sure, but sleep deprived Shepherdson doesn’t make sense sometimes.