The Martlet

What law says that late March air actually has to weigh more?

You walk to class everyday, barely weeks before the end of term, and invisible hands are roping you down, making even the act of walking a strain. It doesn’t get much better when you arrive (five minutes late, of course), only to raise your hand and open your mouth to hear the equivalent of word vomit spew from where remarks of pure genius used to spout.

Yes, we’re almost done. But we’re not there yet, and whether some greater power gets its kicks from playing hardball with students, or we’ve just come to the end of our loan-saturated, lead rope, the oncoming weeks look like one hell of a rough pull.

That said, there is a sparkly lining to be found trimming every sob-story. It’s time to look at the pluses.

For example, just the fact that we’re attending university is something to get excited about — so many people still don’t have the opportunity. We should be thrilled to be this inundated with essays and exams — really, we should. Not to mention all the valuable knowledge we’re stuffing into our brains right now (remember, that is why we’re here — the beer’s only an afterthought).

You might not have time to take care of yourself, but look at it this way: you’re either eating junk and can convince yourself you’re on a two-week vacation from regularly-scheduled healthy meals, or you’re starving yourself: a highly effective pre-summer shape-up plan (just kidding, but we all need a little self-justification right now).

And what about that sallow complexion and those almost-wrinkles? You’re clearly doing your part to help the economy (hello makeup, Botox and skin cream). Don’t forget the best of all: if you have the time to get this stressed out, that means you’re still alive — always a plus.

Of course, there are those of us who’ve bitten off a little more than our everyday usual, and we have to accept that some days will be harder to swallow than others. I admit that mixing six courses, two jobs and what’s left of a social life could have been a little risky (a few of my teachers don’t hesitate to remind me). But I wouldn’t call it being a super achiever — maybe just an adrenaline junkie. And for those of us who are, we know how addictive piling it on can be, and the pleasure that comes from the pressure.

Few things light that flame like impending deadlines. And although the release is usually over in a flash, there’s always an end.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve just saddled the world, bucking, between my thighs and am riding it out until I am too tired to move — all while I lean back and smile.

For the next two weeks, I intend to stare straight into the future — sallow complexion, packed schedule and all.