Somebody once said that these would be the best years of our lives. Uni years. I’d like to say that if were the case, I’d probably say goodbye right now. I’m sure that many of you would be able to relate to the three-jobs, full-time-study, family-in-another-city situation. Throw into the mix a completely unsatisfying love-life, and I guess that’s just about the picture of a 20-year-old student’s life. Sure, we can shake things up a bit with alcohol and other questionable substances and maybe a bit of casual sex here and there, but when it all boils down, the pure magnitude of what we have to deal with the morning after a bit of release barely makes it worth the distraction.
To get a bit of time off, we have to call three bosses and juggle things around. And that’s if we’re lucky enough to have enough work to live in this city. Throw into that mix being an editor of a publication and trying to unwind by playing a few gigs, and you’ve got yourself a catastrophic lifestyle. Some people I know still manage to have time for a rewarding, romantic relationship. I’d like to know how they do that, but I don’t have time to pick up another class.
As lovely and distracting as pursuits of the starry-eyed and passionate kind are, I don’t know if I’ve got much schedule time left. I was lamenting this fact this morning over breakfast. My housemates seemed to be confused as to what I actually wanted from a boy, if I were able to hook one.
I wasn’t asking for much. Someone to always be on-hand for my free time between assignments in the early hours of the morning. They’d be on their own a lot, so maybe they could clean my room when they got bored. I think it would be distracting to have them actually in my room 100 per cent of the time, so maybe they could chill out in the pantry — it’s walk-in, don’t worry. Hopefully I’d find someone who liked grocery shopping, and they could probably make inventory of what’s in the kitchen — maybe even stock up a bit. I’d provide the funds, of course.
I love the nitty-gritty of getting to know someone, but that often leads to the distraction of emotional ties. My housemate kindly offered to get to know him, so I would be free to spend my emotions on other things. Ideally, they wouldn’t mind this dehumanising behaviour. Ideally, too, they would be a good cook.
I realised, somewhere around this point, that what I was really after was a man modelled almost entirely on the old-fashioned housewife mould. I also realised that it might be a bit ambitious to expect to find this perfect relationship of mine. I’m still toying with the idea of copying and pasting this document into a personal ad on OkCupid and uploading a photograph of my pantry, so I’ll keep you updated.
Have any tips for a well-balanced lifestyle while battling the uni blues? Write in to us at firstname.lastname@example.org!
— Lily Ray