My first day at university had me more jittery than a cat at a dog show. My biggest fear? Being the token ‘mature student’ on my course. I was worried about being surrounded by kids who looked young enough to make my daughter feel old. I knew obsessing over this was ridiculous, but let’s be honest, I hadn’t had a clear thought in weeks. These notions had been spinning through my subconscious like a bad pop song on repeat.
In my previous job, I was used to managing late teens — the bread and butter of my workforce on weekends. Based on that experience, my hope for the country’s future was hanging by a thread.
So, you can imagine my sheer joy when I strutted into our first meeting spot and spotted at least four fellow students who also looked like they remembered life before smartphones. It was a relief—I wouldn’t be the only one who had got up to the loo several times a night.