Allow me to set the scene: it’s bright and early on a sunny Cambridge morning and you’ve decided that today is going to be productive. You’ve made the trek to Sidge, hopeful that a sudden spark of motivation to complete last term’s unfinished supervision reading will come from being surrounded by a plethora of libraries (a gaggle of libraries? A chapter? Someone needs to come up with a good collective noun). You open the door, and to your dismay, you’re greeted by a room already filled with students evidently far more on top of things than you are. It appears that your efforts have proved futile, as every seat in every library seems to be taken, and now you’ve wasted an entire morning embarrassingly walking in and then immediately out of all of them. Maybe you should’ve just stayed and worked in your room.

“There is just something about revising in my own space that works for my brain”

For me, that doubt is always in the reverse. I have always been somebody who revises most effectively in a room by myself, but I still constantly wonder if I should just go to the library instead. That’s not to say I only ever work in my room (although the last time I was spotted in the college library, my friends acted like it was the coming of the Messiah), I just know that I’m more productive that way. But this is by no means my way of trying to take up some moral high ground, because nobody is productive all the time – I’m writing this with yet-to-be-completed revision schedules open in the next tab. There is just something about revising in my own space that works for my brain; I love being able to wander around, talk my ideas through to myself, have a snack whenever I want. Traits of a madwoman? Perhaps. But strangely, it quiets my mind. This is ironic given that I’m an English student who loves nothing more than to be surrounded by books, so a library should be the perfect setting. In fact, the only library I do find myself working in relatively frequently is the University Library. I’ve found my ‘spot’, something that everyone says you must do which sounds cringe but does actually work, and I’ve found that I do enjoy a solo afternoon working away in the seclusion of my little corner.

But there’s the kicker: more often than not, I still work there alone. While I always love it when my friends suggest a group library session, it’s because I know I’ll get to spend time with them rather than because I know I’m going to get work done. As a result, I’ve come to realise that it’s not the library setting that’s the problem…it’s most definitely me. I am guilty of being the distracter, the chatter, the person that’s always first to suggest a coffee break. But because I’m all too aware of the fleetingly short time I have at university, I don’t want to miss a second with my friends. So, I’ve recently found myself in a strange sort of limbo where I’m spending more time than I ever have in the library with my friends, yet I cram as much work in as possible before we go to ensure I get things done.

"It doesn’t matter if I get things done at a slower pace in the library: I’m spending time with my friends”

But is that particularly sustainable? I don’t know. Hopefully, though, I won’t need to find out. I’ve been working in libraries more and more, and have found that I still manage to get my assignments done, even on the occasions where I haven’t had the time to work beforehand. I’m realising that it doesn’t matter if I get things done at a slower pace in the library: I’m spending time with my friends, and that’s what’s important – and essays always manage to get completed one way or another.

So, perhaps I am coming round to working in the library after all. As I finish writing this article, I’m thinking about how the rest of Easter term could look for me if I did all my work in the library. But I am doing that thinking – and writing – from my room after all, so who knows if things will ever really change?