Keep calm and retain your humanity

The summer term drags on, and we’re burnt out from the heat, buried under revision or baffled by the amount we failed to take in over the past year. Heading to the library, we succumb to an atmosphere of solitude and quiet, where stewards watch our every move and finding friends becomes a necessity just so we can make it through the day.

It reaches that time every year when communicating with other people goes slightly awry. Suddenly you seem to spend your days texting friends asking them to state their present location, only to discover that when you’ve headed to the library for 11am, they’ve been in the Grid since half eight. If you spot someone you do know in the library, you soon discover that what was once the art of witty conversation has descended into the banal exchange of “How are you? Where are you sitting? How’s revision?” and thus it comes to a close, and you both drift, zombie-like, back to work.

Attempting to communicate vocally on one of the quiet floors is equally disastrous. Seeing someone you recognise, you gesture vaguely and start what can only be described as a mimed, silent exchange. You mouth ‘What are you up to?’ and they mouth back something that you have no chance of comprehending, thus the only solution is to grimace, nod as if you seriously agree with what they have said, then sigh exaggeratedly and amble to your desk. The boredom continues.

You find yourself resorting daily to Facebook as a means of staying in contact with the outside world. Photos of grinning, tipsy finalists on nights out make you miserable, as do the pictures of a girl you knew in halls last year who has jetted off on an early ‘pre-revision’ holiday to Barbados. You just can’t win. You might tweet about some political crisis in the news, to look like you’re staying on top of things, but deep down you know that if you have time to read these fascinating Times articles, you really should be revising.

I will never forget a particularly rainy afternoon, when on my way back into Leamington on the bus a friend texted me to say he was in The Lounge if I wanted to join him. Brilliant, I thought, nothing will cheer me more in this hell of revision stress and foul weather like a nice beverage in my favourite bar. Wandering in, my friend was nowhere to be seen, and after two puzzled barmaids had promised that only the two leery men behind me had been in all afternoon, it soon dawned on me that my dear friend was in fact sitting in his living room writing an essay; thus I trudged back to Radford Road, soaked through and thoroughly depressed with my own stupidity.

Messages just don’t seem to get through. The family back home are even worse. You mention to your brother via Skype that you’re going to the cinema with a friend who happens to be a guy, and the next thing you know your granny rings you up (whilst you are, of course, sitting in the middle of a silent floor) and asks how your boyfriend is, then you receive an email from your mother asking if he’s going to come and stay over the holidays.

I suppose my point here is, yes, of course, allow things to get a little slack, communication–wise, while studying for these bitches; but as soon as they’re over, for God’s sake please pick up the phone, set your mother straight about that boy, tell your brother to zip it, organise to see your friends face to face – preferably in the company of alcohol and as far away from the library as possible – and most of all, enjoy the ability to talk to anyone you like whenever you like, at least until October.