Caught myself singing in the shower, wondered round with a towel turban on my head, left my stuff all over the sofa while I went out last night, sung opera in my bedroom, let my iTunes music shuffle freely without cringing when The Circle of Life started playing: One week here and it feels like home already. Despite the fact I didn’t wake up to the smell of roast dinner cooking this morning, I did wake up to find half the McDonald’s Chicken Legend burger I bought on my way home last night, in the fridge, just waiting to be eaten for breakfast.
Life as a second year so far has been so incredibly different to life as a fresher. Instead of being sat on a hard wooden chair at the kitchen table, I’m curled up on our comfy sofa with a cup of tea and a book ready to start reading when I press publish. I come downstairs to get breakfast in pyjamas as soon as I wake up, when last year I would have brushed my hair, done my make up and then headed to the kitchen hoping I was looking presentable in front of the people I’d only just met. My bedroom door here is almost always open and so are everyone else’s. Heading out in the evenings is easy now we know where to head and on which nights. I can cook without embarrassing myself by asking silly questions, dropping things or burning myself. I know the quickest route into town and into University and back, and I didn’t have to try three different routes to find the best. This year I’m applying for jobs and even now I’m paying bills student budgeting doesn’t seem like such a scary concept.
We may still be lacking internet and our washing machine may be broken, but the butterflies that lived in my stomach permanently last year seem to have temporarily fallen asleep this year already.