29. 11. 2019
3 minuty čtení
There are very few things in this world which feel just about as wholesome as unlimited tea and hot chocolate for a group of students to help themselves to in a cabin in the woods, overlooking the still lake in the middle of Scottish nothingness. Beautiful, calm, rejuvenating nothingness. As peaceful as this may sound, when all twelve of us finally establish who’s sleeping on top of the bunk beds, the cabin experiences an earthquake. Or a hurricane. Or both.
“Right, lads, who’s down to go kayaking?” Caitlin, our president, asks as we gracefully crawl into our wetsuits and at least three layers of sweaters and fleeces. Needless to say, all of the equipment is provided by Firbush, the university’s phenomenal camping site, since most of us own just about a pair of joggers and the motto of this place is to practically make all your dreams come true. Even those about hearty soup and scones to accompany endless committee meetings. It honestly feels more like coming down to gran’s for a little pamper weekend than a committee-bonding escape from the city. We’re good with both though.
As tragic as this may sound coming from the social secretary, I had actually been terrified of spending a weekend with a group of people who had already canoed together into the abyss of Scottish fantasy for years. It turns out that as much as I cherish being on the dance team, I’ve also grown fond of the fifteen people I get to work with to run the society in the first place. As per usual, stepping out of my comfort zone has proven to be worthwhile, whether that’s because every committee meeting is an opportunity to try out a new dip for Doritos, or because I’ve met three other girls taking the same psychology modules as me next semester (may the mysterious professor of Behavioural Genetics remain hopeful for a better future). And as much as everyone hates group projects, no one ever declines a study buddy for a lab in Research Methods and Statistics.
Not to kill the dreamy feel of this post about a bunch of dwarfs in fishermen costumes, but it’s no longer a gloomy afternoon of November 1st filled with expectations, but rather a gloomy Tuesday evening filled with angst from looking at a stack of assignments winking at me from underneath the books piled on my desk. Despite my endless delight for psychology, especially my current Science of Close Relationships class, which unravels the quirkiest of peculiarities of hormonal behaviour during human interaction and relationship investment, I’m not entirely ecstatic about what comes along with it. That being, data analysis and interpretation in a coding language which only started making some vague form of sense about a month ago. On Saturday, though, the sweet smell of the Christmas Markets will fill the grey streets of my beloved Edinburgh and we will all get to enjoy gallons of hot chocolate to accompany all the long evenings of coding and analysis in the world. And that’s proven to be very much worthwhile, too.
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