Mackenzie Hurlbert – Copy Editor – @ImacIwriteIlive
They are starting to set in—those end of semester struggles and slumps. That feeling of exhaustion resonates through every bone until even sitting through a movie in class becomes tiresome. There is the obvious and habitual monotony of work, procrastination, school, and driving.
Teacher’s lectures fade in and out as you fight to avoid looking at the clock. You eventually succumb, only to realize barely two minutes have passed since you last checked. It is boredom. It is exhaustion. It is unavoidable.
I’m nerdy and geeky, yes. I enjoy classes, reading, and learning new things, yes. But no matter your intellect or interest in the class, these slumps are inevitable.
Your teacher could be railing on about the most interesting subject in the world and you still would be thinking of how many weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds it will be until summer break.
The worst part is looking at the syllabus and seeing the lovely white abyss of clean computer paper following the grocery list of assignments for the next two weeks. There’s an end. It’s in sight. But there are plenty of papers, presentations, and exams to plod through before you get there.
The weather certainly didn’t help last week either. Warm sun radiating down and all you can eat ice cream at Conn. It was a total tease of summer.
To go to class was to sacrifice that Vitamin D overload, that skin tingling warmth, and to enter the shadowed halls and suffocating classrooms. Then you had to sit in a hard plastic chair, watching the sun glow through the window, and taunted by laughter and the sight of a renegade Frisbee.
I’m not usually this negative or dramatic, but honestly I’m exhausted. I’m sick of papers and homework and having to go to class. What’s stopping me from skipping?
My damn overachieving integrity. The fear of a bad grade or missing something that could possibly be on the final overrules any sunny day temptations. So I go and take notes. I listen to the teacher, make a few comments, and watch the clock. I page through my dog eared textbooks, noting little doodles I drew over the semester and rereading my sporadic and sometimes humorous comments.
Lastly, I flip open my agenda and collect the pages between “Now” and “Finals.” That sweet thin barrier pinched between my thumb and index is both a relief and a stressor. On one hand, there is only a few weeks left.
On the other hand, there is so much to get done by then! The pages may be thin, but they’re covered in assignments, meetings, and events.
How does one combat something like this when it is so widespread and unavoidable? I don’t think there is a way. We must simply bow our heads and continue on, trudging through the last battles of the semester with a pen in one hand and a coffee in the other.
I keep telling myself the end will be here eventually. I can see it over these mountains of tests and essays. Just avoid watching the clock and keep up with the work.
Time always passes quickest when you are busy.
