by Tara Touloumis
It strikes without warning. You’ll be sitting at your computer, attempting to write a paper, and suddenly it will overcome you. Once it hits, there’s no escaping its merciless wrath. It also tends to attacks before major assignments, job hunts, club meetings, or any legitimate task of responsibility requiring concentration or sobriety.
Its symptoms? Lethargy, glassy eyes, incoherent babbling, and repeated yawning are among a few. Victims are often found sprawled out, face down on any comfortable surface, or in extreme cases, on the floor.
Fairfield University is facing an epidemic. Laziness, also known by its scientific name of lazish slobish, is spreading across this campus, afflicting dozens each day. If you have been lucky enough to escape its wrath, certainly your roommate, neighbor, friend, or that girl sleeping next to you in class has not been quite so lucky.
Many blame the recent increase in temperatures. With a beautiful day smiling at you as you are trapped in your history class, confined to a desk barely large enough for a third grader, it’s no wonder you are feeling less than motivated. The open windows invite the sounds of spring: laughter, people playing sports, and the chirping of birds. It is only a matter of time before these sounds drown out the monotonous voice of Professor Killjoy, and you are officially that unconscious jerk snoring uncontrollably during class.
Some point to the proximity of summer and graduation. Barely three weeks stand between you and freedom. No more hectic class schedule, dorm room, or hardly edible dining hall food. For those students about to graduate, preoccupation with the looming future makes it near impossible to be productive. Collectively, this hopeful group is struck by Laziness, continuously focusing on what’s to come – whether it be summer or graduation – and losing sight of the present.
Whatever the cause, there is no mistaking the crippling power Laziness holds over students. Suddenly, the ability to concentrate has vanished without a trace. “I…I can’t write,” said one anonymous casualty before nose diving into her stack of chemistry books after her futile attempt to study in the library. Is it too late?
This article took over a month to complete. There’s no hope for any of us.
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