A quarter of a century after my first university enrolment day in September 1985 I am back again.
And how things have changed.
Instead of one queue to fill in my registration forms and one queue to pick up my grant cheque, the digital revolution now dictates that I need to queue up no less than eight times.
The first was an ID check to ensure I am who I say I am.
The second to make sure details are correct for my bursary.
The third to prove I have funds to pay the course fees.
The fourth queue I didn't need to be in but this was to collect keys for the halls of residence.
The fifth to get my photo taken for my Unicard for the library.
The sixth to verify that I filled in the form they gave me in queue 1.
The seventh was a good one because now (unlike 25 years ago) I have to pay course fees in excess of £3,000 they give me £200 back to spend on books.
The final queue was to pick up my National Union of Students card.
By the time I had finished queuing I had almost forgotten what my fears were.
But not quite.
As I write I have a few concerns about the coming year.
The first is writing essays. Yes, I know I have been a writer for the past 20 years but I have not written an academic essay since May 1988. I have forgotten all about references and footnotes and for some reason this bothers me. Really bothers me.
The second main concern I have is the perennial parental one - I don't want to short-change my family. I have tried to prepare them as best I can but family life is wont to throw low balls just when you least expect it.
But I am not alone and I am still excited.
And still terrified.
