My first day at school

When I woke up this morning, stretched out my arm to see 7.45 on my clock and realised I had once again made the same mistake as I had done many times before (forgotten to chose am on the alarm), I thought to myself! of course, this is typical 'Jessi' behaviour! to be 45 minutes late on her first day at university.

I should add that my decision to give university another go has been the bone of contention for not only my parents but also my subconscious. For the past week approaching the start of 'freshers week' at all universities around the country, I have been inundated with the same question; 'so are you excited!?'

The truth is I wasn't excited. I was anxious, nervous, apprehensive, pessimistic, one might even say terrified. But I wasn't excited.

So, there I was, finally. Equipped with neck brace, lecture hall and an attention span of a goldfish, I wondered what the hell I was doing there.

Then I met my tutors and I felt excited.

An Italian that spoke Farsi and taught Quranic Arabic. Her specialty woman in Islam, her passion - UNmeasurable and her accent- fantastico.
A post 60's hippy that spent 10 years in India studying Hinduism and mythology, a specialist in Sanskrit with a love for late morning starts.
A 'talks too much' American that specialises in Judaism asking me if I think he should start his teaching from a theological point of view with texts and history or if he should try things differently looking at Jewish influence in modern film culture and politics.

What I realised, is that I could be any 3 of these people, they were normal, they were sympathetic, open minded, full of faults and intelligent.

I can do this.

I can get a degree.