I have realised two things about myself this week:
- I can be quite a bitter person
- I really, REALLY like plans
The first realisation comes from living somewhere where I can hear lots of people having lots of fun. Never before has living in college made me feel so out of the loop. During freshers’ week, at the fine old hour of half past ten, I’d set my alarm, snuggle under the duvet, shut my eyes and wait for sleep to envelop me, basking in the satisfaction that I’d get my eight hours. Then all of a sudden, I’d hear it. Laughter. Light-hearted chattering. General gaiety. I’d close my eyes tighter, trying to concentrate on the lovely sleepy feeling until it became too much to bear and I’d pull back my curtain and glare at the offenders (unbeknownst to them, of course). Half past ten and their nights would be just getting started. At first, I felt merely angry that they were being so inconsiderate. Why oh why were they being so noisy when some of us were trying to sleep?! Then, I thought of my own first year – the back-to-back nights out, the trips to ‘spoons, the all-consuming friends-making opportunities. Suddenly, I felt like I was watching my past self; I was the future of these new freshers and they didn’t know it yet.
Freshers’ week is long since over, but the fun of others prevails. I, meanwhile, shuffle around my room or huddle on the sofa with my crochet, shaking my fists at the window and muttering about those pesky kids. It’s not a nice feeling, resenting others’ enjoyment. I’ve been really trying to not be so bitter because I don’t think it’s serving me well, but this is proving to be rather difficult. Instead of frowning the moment drunken whoops reverberate round the walls of Radcliffe Square, I’ve tried smiling fondly at old memories. Instead of muttering profanities the second some freshers skip down the lane outside singing Riptide, I’ve forced myself to think ‘aw, bless them’. So far this hasn’t worked. But I will not give up.
I assumed things would feel different this year – fewer friends, more stress from impending finals – but I didn’t realise I would feel so different. A night in is genuinely my favourite way to spend my time now, and when I see the word ‘bop’ I can’t muster up a feeling stronger than indifference. My bitterness, therefore, does not stem so much from wishing I was living the fresher lifestyle now, but rather from the fact that it is a bygone time which some lucky people are still experiencing.
The second realisation – that I really, REALLY like plans – has come from living apart from my friends. In first and second year I also really liked plans, but it was easier to fool myself into thinking I could be a spontaneous person. I was always guaranteed to bump into someone and be informed what the day’s entertainment was to be, or I would get a text saying ‘DOWNSTAIRS IN 5 MINS?!?!!!’ and everything would work out okay because we would all be meeting in the same place. Now things are different. Someone texts ‘DOWNSTAIRS IN 5 MINS?!?!!!’ and I have to first decipher whether this means they’re coming to college or whether I’m supposed to be going to theirs. If they’re coming to college, ‘5 mins’ nearly always means more like thirty, and so my next conundrum is: do I have time to make some dinner? If I’m expected at theirs, ‘5 mins’ is asking too much, given I live at least fifteen minutes away.
This came to a head on fireworks night. The morning of, we made a plan, flimsy at best (in that it solely consisted of ‘go and watch the fireworks’). I wasn’t sure when we’d be leaving or what time we were aiming to get to the park. Ahead of time, I texted the group chat with these queries. That was my first mistake. My friends are callers, not texters. I, on the other hand, cannot bring myself to call anyone out of the blue – it always feels, well, too spontaneous. By the time I summoned up the courage to ring, it was too late. They were either on their way or already there, and I had only just set off. Calling to no avail (this was also the night I learnt my data doesn’t work in Headington), crying as I walked down High Street because I knew I wouldn’t find them and this was our last Oxford fireworks night, I mourned the ease of first and second year.
Recognising the new and difficult feelings that come with being a returning year abroad student who spent the past twelve months holding onto memories of an old Oxford, is, I hope, the first step to appreciating the new Oxford. I’m still finding it difficult to get out and explore on my own, but am making sure to keep noting down my little achievements each day. In light of this, I’d like to finish today by mentioning three good things I did this week: I turned up to a college event by myself, booked my first ever gym session (next week’s achievement will hopefully be actually going to the gym!) and, as of ten seconds ago, I evicted quite a big spider from my room. Personally I think that deserves a pat on the back.