Every New Year’s resolution Sheffield students should actually keep this year

Yeah yeah, we all know you’ve decided to give up chocolate, booze and consequently fun in 2017, but let’s be honest those resolutions are guaranteed to go up in flames within two weeks. How’s about we set up some achievable and worthwhile ones? It’s time to kick some nasty habits we’ve slipped into, and to achieve some Sheffield rites of passage.

Make it onto the wall at Aslans

The ultimate hall of fame is the legendary wall of photos in Aslans. It will take a great deal of drunkenly pestering the staff, but it can, and should be, done. Who wouldn’t want to immortalize their drunken feast on the wall of a takeaway? Plus, you’ll get the joy of every time you go to Aslans sending a smug Snapchat – ‘oh, did I mention I’m on the wall?’

Goals

Stop thinking you’re too cool for Pop Tarts

We’re all bored of your snobbery and prejudice against the official number one night out in the country. We’ve heard you a million times, you don’t like pop music, everyone there is a basic bitch blah blah blah. No, dismount from your high horse and lose yourself in the music. Quite literally nobody will judge you for ditching that vintage Adidas jacket and Red Stripe at Night Kitchen for a claw of VKs and uncontrollably belly dancing to Shakira.

Actually go to the Peak District this year

This has been on every Sheffield dweller’s bucket list since the beginning of first year, but suddenly you’re a third year and you’ve only been to Fox House once. The peaks are Sheffield’s crowning glory. It is incredible that for £1 you can be whisked away into glorious Yorkshire countryside to avoid all those deadlines looming. Ladybower Resevoir is one of the easiest places to get to and is beautiful, or take a longer trip out to Castleton and go down some caves. Think of your Insta snaps.

This got loads of likes

Eat more Notty pies

I know what you’re thinking, January is a time for diets, exercise and generally losing that Christmas flub. But you’ve got to keep a layer of fat to survive the arctic conditions which descend on Sheffield every year. Curb your exam related breakdown by gorging yourself on rich indulgent pastry, a mountain of mash and a gallon of gravy. It’s the only way to survive January.

The hills are enough to keep you svelte anyway (see below).

Stop getting the bus and tackle those hills

It’s time to tackle Conduit. As the depressing winter weather reaches it’s climax, it’s understandable that the beacon of warmth and comfort of a bus that would whisk you home to bed is appealing after a ten hour IC session. But Stagecoaches are for the weak. You are not a true Sheffieldian if you surrender. You got this.

Stop taking your shoes off in the IC

Obviously this doesn’t apply to all, but it definitely needed saying. To those who do – stop. If exam season wasn’t stressful enough, seeing someone’s smelly socks parading about the flexispace is enough to send you over the edge. And don’t even get me started on people who take it one step further and take their socks off as well. It is not ok, and it should be a criminal offence.

Not acceptable ever

Become a library seat securing connoisseur

It is becoming a fight to the death to nab yourself a seat in the IC or the Diamond. Get smart and learn some tricks of the trade. The obvious suggestion is to wake up at an ungoldy hour and set up camp before anyone has even woken up. But that’s rather unachievable. Find a hidden computer in 301 Glossop Road or the Arts Tower, the hidden goldmine with a view to boot. Or, carry out a stake out. Pick your prey, scope out who looks at the end of their tether. Lurk nearby, then when the moment strikes – go in for the kill as they leave their computer.

Just don’t be that person that puts their stuff on a computer and disappears for four hours.

Stop trying the rainbow pint challenge

It was all fun and games at pres when you paused the music to announce the mythical quest you were about to embark on. It was fun when you bragged on your Snapchat story with each pint you downed. It was still fun when your mate was sick after the third pint. And it was even fun when you slut dropped repeatedly on stage before being dragged off by a bouncer.

But all shreds of fun and hi-jinx were immediately obliterated when you stacked it down the stairs and threw up black sick. When will we learn to stop trying?

Many ragrets