These are the times that try women’s souls.
Finals. The most evil of the evil. The evilist. In basic speak, The worst. The most frightening tradition in all of University history, even worse than getting HepC from jumping in the river or getting tackled by the flacid O-line during primal scream.
They are coming. But just as quickly as they will come, they will end. In honor of helping you remember that there is life AF (after finals), here are the 7 steps of finishing a final.
1. The alarm.
Boop-bee-bee-boop-bee-bee-boop-bee-bee-boop. The head TF’s phone alarm marking the end of the exam goes off. You look up, vision foggy. The pain hits your hand as you realize how tightly it was clasped around your pencil. Your heart drops. Holy f*ck how is the exam over.
2. The scramble.
As the TF starts talking, blaring red sirens go off in your head. You grab onto your exam booklet for dear life and write like hell, trying furiously to finish that last question as the answer slips from your mind, knocked out by anxiety. The TF stands above you with her hand out. You refuse to look up at her, fearful.
3. The release.
Eventually, she gets annoyed and pulls it away from you. There’s a moment of terror — no, no I’m not done! — but then it’s gone. The exam is done. You look down at your pencil blackened hands and smooth your frazzled hair. Blood pounds in your ears as you’re eyes refocus. It’s . . . over?
4. The sunlight.
You walk outside, dazed, and the sunlight hits you like a truck. Sunlight? What is this substance? You haven’t seen it in weeks. It looks like the stuff that oozes from the lamps in Lamont. You squint up at it, marveling at the beauty of the world. It feels . . . nice. So nice.
5. The dizziness.
As you begin to walk, backpack light and head heavy, it hits you. It’s over. There is no more studying. You literally have nothing to do. As life begins to gain meaning, your head spins and dizzily, you realize you have survived. It’s. f*cking. OVER.
6. The tabs.
You get back to your room and slump on your bed, still dazed. Not quite sure of what to do what did I do with life before this? you pull open your computer to check your email. Slowly, but surely, you close every tab, practice test, notes document, and PDF that is open. Because you don’t need those things anymore. Because it’s over.
7. Then it hits you.
Suddenly, as the last tab closes, it hits. Or rather, it slams. Bangs. Other violent terms for sex. Because just like a lot of sex, there was endless, anxious build up, and then anticlimactically — it’s over. An entire semester of endless readings and problems and office hours and worries is done. I’m done. I’m done! I’M SO F*CKING DONE OMG OMG OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING@%#&!(*)*#^!@!!!!
***cue celebratory jello shots and a summer of stress-free, sun-filled wonder***
Peace out Harvard :’*