I can spot one from ten paces. Hunched over their lecture notes in the dining hall, or buried under a stack of books in the library, there’s a certain desperation that marks out the final year student. Whether it’s the 'informal chat' with your supervisor where you realise that all those 2:2s in the second year don't add up to a first, or the dawning realisation that real life is just around the corner. As a finalist there comes a point when your outlook starts to change. Suddenly, an end to all those hours of daytime television is in sight. The thought of swapping my two hours a day of lectures for a 9-5 is a sobering one. Gradually, I find myself uttering words I never thought I'd say. “No thanks, I'd better not go out tonight, I have an assignment to do.” “Sorry, I can't meet you for lunch, I have a careers appointment.” “I can't come to the pub, I have a 9.15am lecture tomorrow.” However, no matter how tragic my steadily declining social life has become, my new stock phrases are not as terror-inducing as the eternal question posed by all and sundry:
“So, what are you going to do with the rest of your life?” Trust me, when I know the answer to that one, I’ll let you know. Jennifer | 
