Friday, 4 October 2013

Flashback: Michaelmas Column 2

Full issue can be found here: http://www.tcs.cam.ac.uk/assets/downloads/TCS_Volume14_Michaelmas_Issue2.pdf

The problem I have with the people who are here in Cambridge currently is that they’re not my people. I hope you don’t take this in a weird sort of pure race kind of way; all I mean is, where are the people I know, that I eat lunch with in Hall? Where are my library-book-sharing, cup-of-tea-brewing, bar-propping-up mates? Why don’t I know anyone in the smoking area at Life?

Oh, right. They’re actually earning a living wage doing Important Things while some of us scrape by on some funding. Doing some reading. And some writing. Sometimes. It’s hard not to be a little bit estranged and more than a little bit bitter about it all.

I don’t really “get” this whole job thing. It’s like children; just not foreseeable in my near future. In fact, that makes it more like a dog, as children aren’t foreseeable anywhere in my future. Not even with a telescope and a really tall ladder. But jobs are where my people are at. They are working for banks, for the government, for literary agencies and charities and schools. They are training to be lawyers and doctors and accountants.

And me? Well, yesterday I watched 4 episodes of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’, crying at the end of every single one, then baked a cake and made a head start on some pressing reading for a seminar… which is actually not on for another ten days. I don’t envy my gainfully employed peers the early starts (but hello, I’m a boatie!), the tiredness and the long days (I have worked before, you know, in the vac. I am aware of the tribulations) but I would like some cash and some kind of worldly status, please and thank you, instead of the weary glances you get from people on announcing that you are a sort of perpetual student.

Most of all I would like them all, simultaneously, to sack it in and come back for some sort of last hoorah, really, because I am not the world’s biggest fan of the awkward Hall dance, where I stand at the exit of the servery and fruitlessly survey the tabled landscape for all of the people who used to accompany me there. Except, in the main, I’m quite…well…glad that they’re not present. I made a choice to be here, just like they made a choice to be elsewhere. They’re happy, and I’m happy. They’re back this weekend for the Old Boys celebrations, and yes, we’ll have a great time at dinner on Saturday and at brunch the next morning, but in all actuality when they leave on Sunday I’ll be le ft with the research for a new paper that I’m itching to crack on with, an MCR who are really lovely and fun and a slowly growing amount of current undergraduates I know. These might not be my people just yet, but hopefully I’m one step closer to becoming one of theirs. And if you see me in the smoking area at Life, please say hi. 

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