When I hear “investment banker” the first thing I think of is straight, hypermasculine male who’s been told he’s incredible his whole life. For those who have met me, you’ll know that I fall just short of this description and in all honesty, the straightest thing I’ve ever done is download Viva la Vida on Spotify. However, this is the career path I am aiming to pursue, to dive headfirst into the big smoke, make lots of money and retire early, all while clinging to what I have left of my sanity after Cambridge. 

Why would I want to do this? I could rattle on about how I am desperate for a life of Duck and Waffle breakfasts every morning, and that at heart I am unapologetically urban, but in truth, I just want to work for as few years as possible. If that means for the bulk of my 20s, I have to dress in privilege and pretend to care about fantasy football, then so be it.

I recently went to a “Career in Finance” event; every stand was accompanied by its own caffeinated man wearing a haircut that screamed, “My masculinity is fragile, look at my scalp”. For fear of looking like a small pile of beige I straightened my back, kept my chin up and approached the least threatening of the lot – naturally, this was just a building society. I approached the stand confidently, introduced myself and swiftly asked “What does an analyst really do?” with a tone that was a little too similar to Fiona Bruce on ‘The Antiques Roadshow’. As soon as he began I involuntarily zoned out and discovered that the stand was giving out promotional notepads; being the cheap sleaze that I am for stationery, my eyes became fixed on them, he noticed and handed me one mid-waffle. I then tried to work out if his underbite was genuine or self-imposed to give the illusion of having jawline. I settled on self-imposed, it gave him a lisp that made him stand out from the other metrosexuals in a non-threatening way, classic banker. I realised that some achieved this by going for unconventional cufflinks, but I admired the efforts he had gone to here. I nodded aimlessly, thanked him and walked away pleased with my free notebook.

The more observant among you will have noticed that I am not enamoured with the idea of becoming a banker, and who knows whether I really will become one. All I know is that I am midway through my second year and my future is undetermined: I am Schrödinger’s privileged Mathmo. Before Cambridge, my aim was so clear: to get into Cambridge. What will happen to me when I enter a world where people’s dreams have never involved cloisters?

"All I know is that I am midway through my second year and my future is undetermined: I am Schrödinger’s privileged Mathmo."

P.S. To any banks that may be considering me for a position, please know that stocks are my passion, I have a poster of J.P Morgan on my door and I wear suits to bed.