After all the waiting, it's time to start college. It's time to tour Trinity and be bombarded with leaflets, pamphlets and sometimes substantial magazines, all asking for one thing: my membership in their society.

Already, fat packages have been plopping through my letterbox, from various well-financed groups, no doubt financed in part by the advertisements that accompany them from well-known stationery retailers and other businesses that just can't wait to get their hands on the student pound.

As in every other college in the nation, the first week of the long and gruelling course will not involve any classes. Instead, we are invited to join in the fun and games that is Freshers' Week. As far as I can make out, Trinity seems to be the last college to start. (Does that mean that we have to keep working over Christmas? Hope not.) There are some very cerebral and esoteric events organised by the respective students unions, including karaoke, pub quizzes and copious amounts of free drink. In fact, everyone from the St Vincent de Paul to the debating society plan to use alcoholic beverages as enticements to come along to their events.

One thing that will put a damper on all-night festivities, however, is commuting. My plan is to stay at home for first year, and travel up and down to Dublin through an exciting blend of public transport and lifts. In the end, the advantages of staying at home outweighed the desire to fly the coop and lash out on my own. So the road between Wicklow and Dublin will be my daily grind, for this year at least.

It's easy to forget what I'm actually going to college for. (It's to do a degree, in case you've forgotten too.) For four years, I will be studying law. As far as I am aware, the first two years will consist of core subjects - constitutional law, criminal law, and of course tax law (guest lecturer Prof CJ Haughey?). Third year offers the chance to go abroad and brush up on foreign language skills (how do you say "I'm lost and I can't find my flat" in Spanish?), and fourth year means a wider choice of subjects and the option to write an extended dissertation. That's what I think I heard at the open day, anyway. You can never be too sure.

I'll also have to get used to writing long essays (or typing, if my shameful handwriting proves to be too much for the good people of Trinity). Yet again, the difference between college and second level is crystal clear. Last year, a teacher would stand at my desk on a Monday morning, wanting to know where my essay/letter/review/all-the-past-questions-on-electricity was. This year, I need to work to my own initiative, motivating myself to work hard, or at least hard enough to pass my summer exams.

I look forward to getting to know my fellow students (yes, even the engineers). There's only around 9,000, so four years should be enough. Quite a few people from my own class will be joining me at the College Green RTC, so I shouldn't be too lonely. I've also finished working for the summer, but I'm going to continue there on Saturdays only. I've enjoyed my time at work, and it's almost tempting to stay there. Then I think of having to get up at eight every morning without fail, and I realise that I've made the right choice.

Having written a Leaving Cert diary for The Irish Times has its own advantages, of course. Believe it or not, people actually recognise me on the bus or in the shop and say something nice about my articles. Except for one man, that is, who said, and I quote: "My sons hate your guts. Will you sign this for them?" So when the EL editor rang me up and asked for another piece about starting college, I insisted on a bodyguard for my first few weeks. (He'll be the guy wearing shades and talking into his wrist.) Seriously, it's been great writing for this venerable paper - an institution that cares about students so much that it offers them cheap newspapers.

I think of having to get up at eight every morning without fail, and I realise that I've made the right choice