- A three-hour nap becomes not a luxury but a daily necessity.
- You can’t look at a VK or bottle of wine without feeling sick, and you’re yet to brave the end of term Christmas formals.
- You’re convinced that Christmas is really really soon (hello, Cambridgeshire council festive lights!)
- Lectures? I’m supposed to be going to lectures?
- You shudder every time you go to the cashpoint.
- Forget what the rest of the world think, Monday is the middle of the week, not the start. Fools.
- Going out on a weekend seems like an insane idea.
- You have no idea what you’re supposed to have learnt this term.
- You suffer repeated mood swings, switching from being massively stressed and hating Cambridge/your subject/life to thinking its all went way too quickly and couldn’t term be just that bit much longer?
- You have no idea what day of the week it is let alone what date – but you know exactly how many days until your next supervision.
- You’re beginning to hate the people you live with (and especially the wanker who keeps leaving hairs in the shower. Not cool.)
- You walk past guy in black tie, someone dressed as a camel and two New Hall girls in full-on body paint in the street without batting an eyelid.
- Gowns and suits in a club? Of course.
- You really should probably change your sheets but keep telling yourself there’s so little time left it’s not really worth it.
- It doesn’t matter which part of the country you’re from or where you went to school, you now talk with the generic Cambridge upper-middle-class twang.
Don’tcha just love Week Seven?
