Day parties melting into night-time ragers, Dominick’s bursting at the seams and every girl with a roof any flatter than 90 degrees out to tan. Standard Welcome Week.
But wait. It’s only mid-March?
Although it may be due to inevitable Global Warming that liquefies arctic ice caps, kills off cuddly polar bears and will probably end us all, I am all about this weather. I have a porch that basks in the sun, tanning lotion in my drawer, and still have my swimsuit from spring break; I am more than prepared to be a beach bronzed bum in no time. However, one minute detail stands in my way: school. With finals lurking around every corner who has time to bake in UV rays with a cool refreshment in hand?
This time of year calls for logging in late hours at the Law, taking detailed notes during lecture, attending office hours and above all, stressing out at the impending doom of exams. However, all I want to do is avoid the library, skip lecture, forget my professors and pretend tests don’t exist. While my inner hooky-playing self fights to take over, my anxiety over missing something important and suffocating regret if I dare skip, outweighs any potential feeling of joy. Even on a Friday night, I feel a definite twinge of guilt as I don the usual skirt and tank combo for Ricks, obsessing that I should start this subject’s paper or make that class’ flash cards. The remorse persists the next morning when I look in horror at the 12 PM flashing on my phone (half the day, gone!). I am trapped between a rock and a hard place: I don’t go out or enjoy the sunshine, and I sit indoors sulking. I play a little hooky or dance the night away with my friends and I end up panicking at the work that’s left undone. What’s a girl to do?
That’s where the spinning chicken comes in.
“Oh dear,” you may think, “after hours spent alone in the Stacks, she’s finally lost it. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Hold that thought and follow this link: http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com/post/17296657232/when-i-spend-all-semester-sleeping-through-class-and Here lies the secret of how not to turn into a high-strung basket-case.
As my wise roommate once said, regret is the stupidest emotion you feel. Nothing will change what you did yesterday so why wig out about it? Maybe you went with your girlfriends to Charley’s instead of your 2:30 lecture. Perhaps you strolled in the arb with a love interest instead of reading the assigned chapters. Perchance you went a little nuts and decided to patronize Skeeps even though there’s an exam Monday. The aforementioned would make me break out into a cold sweat before my chicken-induced mini-epiphany.
Now, I am in no way promoting class bailing and failing. I merely want to stress that going out in the gorgeous sunshine, spending the precious little time we have at Michigan and doing things you’ll look back and chuckle about when you’re an old bag, is no crime. Let’s face it, when you’re cooped up in Med school or slaving away at an entry-level job you will need the happy memories of balmy breezes and a brew with your besties to keep you going. So go ahead, get your head out of the books for a hot second and join the happy crowds outside.