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Conversations you’re going to have as a Lincoln fresher

Would you rather have a Brummie accent .. or chlamydia?


Heading into the new academic year as a returning uni student you’ll know all the ins and outs of what to say when hanging outside scene at three in the morning. Recollecting oneself back to Freshers’ Week flat dinner or “leaving your door open just incase…”, here highlighting how to navigate those awkward “how’s the degree?” questions you’re definitely going to have as a uni of Lincoln fresher.

‘Why does the Arts Bridge lift smell of wee?’

Truly fascinating how such a work of architecture can withstand the aroma that hits you on your way to your nine am lecture. Reminiscent (scent ha-ha) of being a blue WKD warrior from the night before, there’s no way around this one. Any academic advice I give out to any fresh is avoid the arts bridge lift past 11pm. You can’t blame Trebles, it’s technically the sixth best night out in Lincoln. And apparently Lincolnshire is in a drought so really it’s hurting nobody actually.

‘How does Circuit Laundry work?’

Yes the dreaded moment the word ‘university’ sinks in for most freshers who don’t have the luxury of owning their own washing machine. Of course the words ‘circuit laundry’ provokes a certain “working class guilt” for some. For others though, a perfect display of a tumble dryer which does more tumbling than drying. A trial by fire for all who tries to rip the door handle open as you’ve left your AirPods in your pockets is going to happen.

‘Is it too late to drop out?’

As customary as a live, laugh, love sign in a veterinary science degree flat share, the phrase ‘is it too late to drop out’ is as common as – dropping out I suppose. Remember as long as you get a flu jab and a hangover cure, you’re doing better than most. Going into the year and getting to grips with the harsh reality of independence though, one can see how thoughts of giving it all up so easily can be done. No more king sizes at Toby Carvery, it’s all Pot Noodle from here: Try living, laughing and loving to the Cozzie Livs crisis.

‘Why don’t my flatmates like me?’