December 27, 2015, by Gemma Coleman

Please don’t make me graduate

I have decided to run away and become a milkmaid. Preferably somewhere near Toulouse or Carcassonne, but I’m not too picky to be honest – wherever a cow needs me, I’ll be there. Whenever I have a big decision to make, the fantasy of becoming a modern day Tess of the D’Ubervilles resurfaces (conveniently forgetting about the poverty and tragic death – minor details) before someone reminds me that machines can now milk cows or that I have no experience, practical or theoretical, with the bovine family. Well thanks for the support guys.

The closest I've got to working with cows

The closest I’ve got to working with cows

It’s fair to say that my approach to accepting that I am soon to be entering my final semester of university has been somewhat minimal. A little blasé. If you don’t apply, you can’t be rejected (NB kids, this is not good advice). I can’t wait to wear the cap and gown, buy a new dress, don the nude shoes and take a million and one photos of me posing across campus. The responsibilities, lack of student loan and moving away from all my Nottingham friends, though, is significantly less appealing. Maybe I could just become Peter Pan, idk.


Thinking about it more seriously, a year out seems to be the best option for me to give myself a little bit more time to think about what I really want to do and let’s face it, put off the impending doom that is real life. After a semester abroad in Europe, the travel bug has well and truly bitten me, and Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) seems like both a constructive use of my time and a lot of fun.

Insert travel-related photo

Insert travel-related photo

For now, juggling my degree and making the most of my last few months in Nottingham will be my priority. And then maybe I’ll invest in a bonnet, just in case there is suddenly a call for milkmaids in the South of France – you never know.


Posted in Gemma