Dis Connect

Around this time each year the University is invaded only briefly by swarms of former students dressed like dicks. Graduates.

I'm never really been able to make the connection between all the trips on the Eastern Freeway, textbook purchases, boring tutes, all night study sessions, and ever actually graduating, until I see former students wondering around in flowing red gowns and those stupid hats.

The Student: "Hmmm... that could be me one day!"

Which begs the question, why the fuck else do I think I'm at Uni?

I started what should have been a three year Arts degree in 2001, a year that degrenerated into a screaming hindenburg-esque failure. I should have finished in 2003. I'd have been 21, broke, the proud owner of a shiny new arts degree and ready to go work fulltime. Yeah, fuck that.

Now, in 2005, for the first time, I can see the end of the tunnel. Rather than continually treading water, I'm aware of where I'm going and when I'll get there.

It's cliche University student behaviour to say this, but the 9-5, five days a week, 48 weeks a year work routine sounds and looks like no fun at all. So it's pretty clear, despite racking up HECS debt and an ongoing sense of underahceivement, the Uni lifestyle of months of holidays and Monday morning sleepins, suits me.

A friend of mine is currently undertaking a year long fulltime work placement as part of an engineering degree. Over a few beers on Friday night...

Jayco: "When I was at Uni, all I ever said was 'I wish I was just working and this was all over.' Now I'm working, all I ever say is, 'Fuck I hate work, I wish I was back at Uni.' I just don't have time to do anything, even small things, anymore."

I guess I should be thankful.