Throwing the black, silky Cindies wristband into the bin in the early hours of Monday morning was a sad moment for all freshers, marking the end of a week filled with frolicking around Cambridge, cheap white wine and little care about what the next 8 weeks would hold. 

More significantly though, was the direct correlation between me taking off my wristband and my contraction of Freshers’ Flu. Whether it’s our bodies response to the shock of finally being able to have more than 4 hours of sleep, or a psychological response to realising that you now actually have to read the books you were meant to have studied throughout August, it’s not fun. 

Some feel the initial symptoms before Freshers’ has even ended. I personally felt an impending blocked nose on Sunday night, a factor that made me question whether another night at Life was necessary.

The really unlucky ones can feel the heavy head and sore throat early in the week, some weaklings even deciding to miss their first opportunity to spend a Wednesday night at Cindies. A regret they’ll never overcome once they realise how hard it is to get a ticket for the rest of term. 

For those who battled through, Monday morning was the moment they realised they had perhaps pushed themselves a little too much. Humanities students powered through as many as three whole contact hours, fuelled by coffee and pro plus for the experts, whilst scientists used matchsticks to keep their eyes open throughout their 12-hour day.

The only ones who kept a smile on their faces were the medics, who know that this is just preparing them for their time as junior doctors. 

The self-pity and dejectedness isn't helped by the fact that freshers actually started to receive work (outrageous). Although we all knew it would come, freshers week allowed us to forget temporarily; the most mentally taxing thing we had to do being remembering our next-door-neighbour’s name. Sorry, Lewis.

"Look on the bright side, it can only get better"

Whether you’re being bombarded with essay titles you can’t even begin to understand, having to make to-do lists that require two sheets of paper or desperately trying to type up lecture notes at 100 miles per hour so as not to miss a single word, don’t worry, (to quote a classic Hollywood institution) we’re all in this together. 

And if you feel a bit of a hole in your heart now that you can’t spend every night drinking to oblivion, dancing to Abba and eating cheesy chips without consequence; comfort yourself with the fact that we all miss the good old days of last week. 

Even if all you have right now is imposter syndrome and a snotty nose, then look on the bright side, it can only get better.