Teen Times:With the first term of college heading to a close via strenuous and unprepared-for exams, life can become very insular (you can tell I've been in the library - "insular"- fabulous word). Life begins to consist of very little other than sitting, reading, eating, going to the bathroom, daydreaming and sleeping (preferably not in the library).
When you are really pushed to the extreme in such a manner you can find yourself regressing socially. For instance, instead of a night out on the town or a weekend away getting all your mental attention, a visit to the water fountain to fill up your water bottle can arouse worrying enthusiasm; who will I meet on the way? Is there any vocabulary left in my head that isn't economics related?
I sometimes worry that all the silence of the library might cause me to turn mute for good - although people who know me say that this is unlikely to occur.
Taking "a water-bottle break" is good for study avoidance but it's really all about the bathroom breaks. With a bathroom break there are far more opportunities for time wasting. I like to hang out by the mirrors and reapply lip gloss until my lips begin to feel positively weighed down. Then I like to dry my hands until the dryer practically turns them to dust. And if I'm in luck there may even be a queue.
It was during a bathroom break that I began to notice that the college bathrooms may not be the sanctuary from studying for everyone that they are for me. Several ashen-faced freshers led a picture to form in my head (don't worry, this formulation occurred during specifically allocated day-dreaming time).
You arrive in college all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. On your first trip to the bathroom you notice that the lighting is fluorescent blue. You are only slightly apprehensive when you hear that this is so that heroin addicts can't find their veins while attempting to shoot up. Although you do start to become a bit more suspicious about those around you.
When you finally get into the cubicle and close the door behind you, a sign on the back reads " have you been raped or sexually assaulted?" The main thoughts that run through your head are "no, why, will I be? By the drug addicts outside?"
On the wall directly at face level to your right is a mirror. There you are, the picture of innocence, all 500 points of you smiling back at yourself. Another sign directly above your pretty face reads "are you looking at someone with chlamydia?" Am I? Am I? Do you not have to have sex to get chlamydia? Will I get it off this seat? Panic ensues.
If you haven't already fallen off the seat, this may occur now, just to add to your stress and confusion. Sitting strewn across the dirty floor of a toilet cubicle isn't an ideal situation at the best of times.
It is because of these poor freshers that it is my duty to lounge in the bathroom, doling out advice, scanning for drug addicts and sometimes answering pertinent personal phone calls, but only if I feel I have the fresher situation under control. As much as I would love to be in the library, the Phillips curve will have to wait for my now-permanent bathroom break.
Alice Ryan is a business and French student in Trinity College Dublin
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