OK all, there are only three weeks left. A rigorous and treacherous three weeks, but weâ€™ll make it, I can assure you.
As much as you may want to crawl down into a deep, dark hole only to never come out again, please refrain. Someone loves you. I love you.
The dynamic of these next three weeks is exceptionally odd.
Everyone has just had a taste of home with family, friends, home-cooked meals, sleeping in, taking naps, falling asleep to holiday specials on TV, venturing out of your house and into town only to run into some people that youâ€™ve been avoiding since graduation and watching the snow come down from the comfort of your own couch indoors while still wadded up in your pajamas.
Youâ€™re not at home to impress anyone. I canâ€™t speak for everyone, but going home is the most comforting, relaxing, warm-fuzzy, safe feeling Iâ€™ve had since Iâ€™ve left home for college.
You feel as if the evil-doings of schoolwork cannot harm you at home. Even if you end up bringing work home, itâ€™s different than the weekly drowning of homework while up at school on campus or in your apartment or dorm room.
Coming back to school is a whole rushing assortment of emotions. You have on this strong, motivated front while on the inside you feel like youâ€™re going to crumble right where you stand just thinking of the beating that awaits you over the next three weeks.
PowerPoints, papers, group studies, articles for the Collegian, quizzes, readings and presentations; all due within the first week and a half of returning to school, all while you simultaneously think of your finals and trying to finalize your class schedule for spring semester (I think my head may spontaneously implode after writing that last sentence).
I start to notice the unpleasant smell of this classroom, the fact that my socks are soaked from the snow outside in the 11-degree weather, the way this teacher has said â€œok?â€ at the end of every other sentence she has completed in todayâ€™s lecture and the way the kid in front of me turns to look at me every time I laugh while thinking of something funny that happened earlier today.
You may also acquire sporadic groans and screams of frustration when thinking of your load of work and lack of sleep.
Finally, finals week arrives. Finals week is easily the best part of these remaining three weeks. I remember as a freshman thinking this week would be the end of me. I remember one of my older friends Chris, telling me he actually enjoys finals week. What?
He didnâ€™t bother explaining himself, and no matter how I looked at it I simply couldnâ€™t understand any possible way to take delight in finals week. After completing a year at CSU, Iâ€™m with Chris on this one.
During finals week, nothing else is going on. Nothing. This is somewhat intimidating, thinking that finals may become some kind of personified creature that will slowly approach but rapidly engulf and devour CSU and its attendants, but this isnâ€™t the case.
Finals week means establishing permanent residency in the Morgan Library for many students. They learn to run on an average of fours hours of sleep, coffee and/or any kind of energy drink they can get their pencil-cramped hands on.
The highlights of the week entail when various organizations, fraternities and sororities rush in to hand out free Red Bull, Monster energy drinks or the goody-bags filled with Slim-Jims, candy bars, water bottles, lemonade powder mix, Dum-Dum suckers and pencils.
There was also the very rare, but highly praised, free Chipotle that was randomly passed out last year in the library during finals. And I mustnâ€™t forget the true heroes that invaded Morgan Library; the â€œPac-Manâ€ crew that ran around the study tables to give the students something to smile about other than their recently obtained Slim-Jims. Christmas came early.
I hope this leaves you more anxious than dreadful for the encroaching three weeks.
Molly Ungerer is a sophomore journalism major. Her column appears Tuesdays in the Collegian. Letters and feedback can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org.