Oh to be a simmie 

     Today I moved out of my university house. I was only living out for a year but it has been a good one. Of course living with other people is hard, but it’s nothing I’m not used to considering I grew up with a household of four. 
     Of course I lived in a crappy student place, where I paid too much rent and had many an argument with each of my flat mates about who’s turn it was to take out the bins, or who’s left their dirty dishes out for days on end. But on the whole I’ve had a great year. And I’m sad to be leaving. 
     My final year of university drew to a close this May, and after months of dissertation stress and many an emotional break down I made it through and graduated with a 2.1! I am very proud of myself, all my hard work paid off and the stress was worth it for a £27,000 piece of paper in the end.      

It is a sad feeling. I am never going to walk the halls of St Mary’s ever again. It is going to be a tough thing to let go of. Even though the experience has landed me in £36,000 of debt, the feeling of being a part of a community, of having some of my very best friends less than 10 minutes away from me, living my life the way I want to live it? Priceless. 

     I thought this summer would just be one giant party, and in some ways it was. But in other ways I’ve grown up so much. I realised that I didn’t need certain people in my life, and I’ve made some very grown up decisions regarding my future (that’s a lie, I still have no idea what I want to do, and I’m scared shitless). 
     Moving out of my flat and back in with my parents will be a huge adjustment, although I do have pretty laid back parents so I don’t think it’ll be too much of a change. 
     It has been hard to say goodbye to my flat mates. It’s been a tough year but the top floor squad has mostly stuck by each other through thick and thin, and saying goodbye to them was difficult. I didn’t cry though. I know I’ll see them again soon. Mother Hen lives 10 minutes from my home, and Petal still has one more year of university to go. I know I’ll still see them. I know we’ll still be family. 
     Looking back over the year we’ve hosted many a party, starting with pre drinks most nights during freshers. Each party holds a random drunken memory that I can barely remember now. All I can remember is loving every second I spent hanging out with my friends, new and old, in a drunken stupor. 
     The last semester was certainly the hardest. I took on an extra module, cried a lot, drank a lot and had absolutely no money at all. I spent a lot of my time at the library, hating my writing and wish I I could start again. Oh well, I still got my 2.1. 
     University has been such a challenging experience for me, and despite the rotten first semester, on the whole I have enjoyed it. My university is so welcoming and close-knit that I couldn’t possibly imagine being elsewhere. I’ve received such an overwhelming amount of support throughout my 3 years there, even from people that I don’t know.
     I can honestly say that I wouldn’t change a thing. On to the next chapter!


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