It’s crunch time, readers. The last hurdle. The semester’s crescendo. The final frontier.
Finals week starts today and it’s taking a toll on all of us. The stress and tension the whole campus is experiencing is causing an eerie, hushed mood to fall over everything.
And frankly, I do not care for it. Not a bit.
I don’t like the fact that my new default attire is sweatpants. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. Finals week officially means all sweatpants, all the time. We all have to make sacrifices and, unfortunately, the first one I made was any attire that wasn’t a rich cottony blend. It also has the added bonus of aiding against the bitter, biting cold that has also descended on campus. Growing up in Idaho my whole life, you’d think that I would be accustomed to Mother Nature’s dramatic mood change this time of year. You’d be wrong. When I looked out my dorm window this weekend, I shook my fist and yelled “Bah humbug!” like any good, 19 year-old curmudgeon would.
I love when it snows, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t love it when it snows and there are actual, adult-like responsibilities for me to accomplish instead of just enjoying said snow. I knew I could never fully appreciate the beautiful winter wonderland outside while I was stuck under a mountain of studying to work through.
It’s also the fact that, since we still have a week left before I get to travel back home, I have to drudge through the icy, below zero temperatures in order to get anywhere.
Ah, yes. Lovely.
Nothing says “Good Morning!” like a shock of freezing wind slapping you in the face as you step out your door. I count down the days/minutes/seconds until, finally, I can be back home for a well-earned break with my family.
Until then, I have plenty to keep me busy. (Seriously. Like an inordinate amount of stuff because, spoiler alert, college is hard.)
For example, I have a meeting almost every night this week in order to practice a play with a ragtag group of classmates. That’s right, readers. I’m finally embracing my inner Julie Andrews and answering the calling I never even realized I had: I am now an actress, an experienced thespian. Sure, the play I’m in is only 5 minutes and yeah, okay, it isn’t really a play, more like improv. And the only people who will see it are my Intro to Theatre classmates. But, hey, all great performers have to start somewhere.
In this case, I’m making my stage debut as a ghost who haunts Blatchley Hall. (Not that much of a stretch of the imagination. If ever there were a building I was positive deserved its own one-hour special on one of those crappy ghost hunting shows, it’s Blatchley.)
Besides that, I still need to finish two papers by Wednesday and study for my film final Thursday. Wish me luck! Hopefully, the next time I write, I will be in the comfort of my own home. Or, maybe, I’ll be already on my way to Broadway after a talent scout, by some miracle, catches my performance as the troubled yet earnest ghost, Pantalone.
That probably wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that could happen this week. (Finals week is a weird, weird, time, guys.)
Ashley A. Miller
P.S. Oh, I forgot to mention. This week’s photo is of the Yotie Christmas tree, located in the heart of campus. We had a ceremony to light it and it was a nice break from the never ending tears and panic that come with the end of the semester.
Ashley is a sophomore creative writing major from Payette, Idaho.