‘Ultimately, as frustrating as it is, I’m a slave to the clock’ says third year Accounting and Finance student Mike Michaels.
‘I’m not sure why – it’s best not to question the logic – but anyone will tell you it goes in half an hour increments, kinda like catching a train: if you miss the 9am to Loughborough, then you have to wait for the 9:30. You don’t see anyone getting the 9:15 now do you?
‘Similarly, if I don’t start work at 9 on the dot, then I simply have to faff for another 28 minutes before I can properly get stuck into it.
Mike’s faffing routine changes depending on his location.
‘If I’m at Wills, I’ll quietly observe the Wonderful Ladies of Law working hard. I imagine they’ve been there since 8, after their 6am legs bums and tums class and having dropped the kids off at school in their 4x4s.
‘If I’m at the ASS, I just gormlessly wander until I bump into someone I half know and engage in some good old-fashioned micro talk.
‘Home is the worst for faffing – there’s always something to do. If I’m not indulging in hearty shit, I can be found cleaning a surface of some kind, that especially makes me appreciative of my bald housemate Rob.
‘Anyway must dash – can’t miss the 9:30 work train!’