St Andrews Pain

I’m having lunch with my two friends: F1 (appropriate new code-name, yes?) and my Swedish counterpart are discussing cabin fever. F1 says, “I have the St Andrews Pain”. “What, you’re already wanting to leave town for a while?”, we enquire. “No, not really. It’s more like an urge to hide under the blankets and play Xbox for 24 hours straight”. Word.

That we all get a little restless after long confinements to the bubble is no secret. It’s worrying that we’re now starting to get claustrophobic after being here for less than one month, especially in the light of the fact we no longer have reading week, but it is a common distress nonetheless. I am slightly envious of:

-Scottish students. You can go home whenever you feel like it.
-JSAs/JYAs: you don’t really study and tour around Europe during the entire semester AND still get credits.
-People with private jets: makes getting to your yacht in Southern France so much easier. You take ‘weekend getaway’ to a whole new dimension.
-Londoners: self-explanatory.

So, I have to say I agree with F1, although I would probably replace Xbox with cheesy TV or pleasure reading, possibly both. In fact, I have decided that I shall celebrate handing in my last essay with a weekend trip to Amsterdam—only in St Andrews, I agree. Let me tell you, though, that the purpose of my travels is entirely educational; after all, the University of Amsterdam is one of my options for graduate study. You can’t presume I won’t check it out before applying, can you?

Perhaps the biggest pain about St Andrews Pain is what was pointed out by my academic husband just a week ago: the minute you leave you realise that there really isn’t much to do here. I complain that I never have enough time to do everything I want in a day, and believe me, it’s for that very reason. We burden our weekly planners, commitment after commitment, to ease the Pain, I think. And once one gets to fourth year and starts seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, there’s just no more use in denying it: the imminent end begins to look completely glorious.