The words “Full Time Education” scare me now.

Summer’s come and gone, freshers week at the university past by at lightning speed and now, going into the third week of the third year at university, I’ve realised that this semester is the equivalent of a 9 to 5 job. Until this semester I’ve never realised the term “full time education” (at university) actually meant something. Somehow I got the impression university was an easy task; occasional work surrounded by lots of parties and playing Nintendo. At least that’s how it’s been so far.

I presume it all started in first year, the time of my life I lived in the central part of the University of Aberdeen. It took me a mere 5 minutes to walk to the furthest lecture hall, or about 2 minutes to most others. Mario Kart races were a norm between lectures and going to the pub down the road was a near daily activity. Course work was simple and easy, exam revision was a quick task and getting into second year was quickly accomplished. At the time I never realised just how much spare time I actually had.

Then came second year. Having moved into the city centre I had stumbled across a daily walk of around 45 minutes to university. I never had a problem with the walk, and still don’t, but spending around 1/12 of your day walking doesn’t help when your time table starts building up. Still, I managed to find time to go to weekly pub quiz’s, gigs, Mario Kart sessions at friend’s flats and all the other usual student activities.

Then this happened;

A monster of lectures, workshops, tutorials, practicals, mentoring sessions and group meetings attacked my timetable. I think I’ve finally figured out why this course is part of this “full time education” program.