If you’re reading this it means that somehow you have survived the gauntlet that is the last week of classes at Fairfield University. Naturally, the Weather Channel has predicted the most beautiful weather pattern ever for the next 2 weeks. Of course, I won’t be witnessing any of this due to the fact that my eyes will never see the light of day, squirreled away in the dark caverns of the DiMenna Nyselius library, running solely on Red Bull and my own tears. I’ll try to set alarms on my iPhone to remember to eat. I know you’re worried.
Finals are stupid. Who had the grand idea to decide “Gee, let’s just throw a semester’s worth of work into a single test then assign about 45% of the student’s grade to it,” should be shoved in the stacks of the lower level of the library and locked away for all eternity. For those of you who don’t know what the stacks are in the library you should probably actually pay attention in one of those multiple ‘Library Orientation Seminars’ they shove you into during EN11 and EN12. Back to the basics, people.
If you’re in the library right now, don’t be frightened by the hordes of uber-focused, Adderall-crazed zombie students that have come to occupy your favorite comfy chairs overlooking the hill. This is just a phase; by May 13th, there will be a great release of pent-up anxiety and a collective sigh will be exhaled across campus.
If I was a professor, my final would be nothing more than a paper due on the last day of class. I wouldn’t pretend to be blind to the fact that most students don’t really start studying until (at the maximum) 2 or 3 days before the final. I’ve come to love the teachers that declare the final to be only a portfolio or research paper. It’s less stressful and manageable, unlike re-reading chapters 1-14 and memorizing why or why not the Federal Reserve targets the money system and how this will affect the price of turnips in the economy.
I can almost taste the freedom of summer. It’s like being a kid during December. You know that Santa is coming but you can’t do a thing about making Christmas morning come any faster. It’s like a twisted joke walking to my class with girls sunbathing out on the quad. It takes the biggest effort to continue to plod to my own personal hour and 15 minute corner of hell. Everybody’s working for the weekend.
As my final thought for the year, I wish all graduating seniors the best of luck in the real world. I also would like to wish everyone else a safe and fun summer and look forward to writing for you all in the fall. Now I’m going to retreat back into my dark cave and try and choke down another couple of chapters of accounting.
Sent from my iPhone
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