September 8, 2017, by Lucy

Things I’m Packing for Second Year

No matter how organised I thought I was as I packed for first year, making endless amounts of lists and constantly checking my luggage, unfortunately a myriad of items never made it to university with me. I’ve learned from my mistakes and have now compiled a list of things that will take pride of place in my life as a second year. I guarantee that having all of said items will make my life approximately 150% better. Fact.

A Sieve

Something strange happened during my first year at university. A weird and quite unbelievable feat occurred. Having spent my days gorging on carb laden meals of rice and noodles, I somehow managed to survive freshers’ without owning a sieve. Amazing. My level of stupidity managed to reach its peak on the many occasions whereby I found myself leaning over the sink mourning over the grains of rice that managed to escape just as I was trying to drain the water. Alas, now that I have a sieve, meal times shall no longer consist of bowls being 90% water and 10% actual food. I cannot even imagine the life luxury that will ensue.

A sieve: for preventing food from drowning in its own bath water.

Tin Foil

There are many things in life that I am not very good at and cooking is one of them. Indeed, nothing causes me to fall into a mode of panic greater than when the cooking guidelines for a packet of chicken nuggets doesn’t match that of a portion of frozen oven chips. Rather than do the maths and find a middle ground to cook both food items at the same temperature and for the same time, whacking tin foil over the trays will stop both burning whilst suiting my extensive laziness. Voila.

Tin foil: for when you lack the effort and mental ability to cook like a responsible adult.

An Extension Lead

In a society dominated mobile phones, laptops and tablets, it is astonishing how little impact such lifestyle choices have in the placement of plug sockets. More so, being a student, a high percentage of my time is spent in the hub that is my bed, so much so that it is verging on becoming a part of my identity. This being said, last year the plug sockets in my room were sparse and so far away from my bed that they may as well have been located in Narnia. Yeah, yeah, yeah, maybe I should do all of my work at my desk and I should get out of bed more, but life is too short to follow conventions. Why should I be so predictable? So mainstream. Give me an extension lead and the world is my oyster, I can plug in all my devices anywhere. I am free.

An extension lead: for taking control of technology and living by your own rules.

A White Board and Notice Board

When you are both forgetful and in need of room décor, anything that has the ability to aid your memory as well as take up wall space is a wonderful spectacle to behold. Someone call George Clarke because with this two in one combo, my desk area is about to become an amazing space. With the whiteboard’s versatility and the notice board’s oh-so-chic cork aesthetic, nowhere is an unsuitable placement. Think of all the possibilities! A simple black marker and gold pins for the minimalist fashionista. A string of fairy lights and polaroids to suit the Tumblr meets Pinterest fanatic. Call me boring for obsessing over an item of stationary but I am the real winner here. End of.

A white board come notice board: for both your educational and interior needs.

1kg of Haribo

Despite the joy that this amount of Haribo has brought into my life, it is probably not a necessity. At the time of purchase, it found its way into my trolley on the basis that it would be a good, social thing to share with my housemates as we get into the swing of university life yet again. However, the more I look at the quantity, the more I realise my own optimism and doubt whether it will have a fate away from my own personal consumption. Will I ever part with my beloved Haribo? I highly doubt it, but the intention was / is (?) there.

1kg of Haribo: for solidifying social bonds whilst questioning your own life choices.

Posted in Lucy