Being cold and reverse entry shock
I have little recollection of my time spent in college other than the odd vague memory of 'pound-a-pint' nights out and dozens of missed buses as well as an overwhelming sense that I wasn't up to the job intellectually. My role among my far more intelligent circle of friends was that of dizzy joker who ridiculed the subjects, professors and ideology, dismissing it all as a dreadful waste of time and who on occasion was known to arrive in to lectures laden with (sale) shopping bags from River Island and Next. I once spent half an hour drunkenly explaining to my anthropology lecturer in the pub that his lectures were a complete mystery to me (of which my attendance was hovering around the 2% mark) and insisting that any course which centred on a text entitled 'The Accursed Chair ' must be a pretentious and pointless waste of time and energy. The lecturer good-naturedly allowed me to continue in this diatribe before patiently explaining that the name of the bo...