We have arrived at the end of the semester. Everyone is anticipating final exams, finishing last minute projects, and cramming for tests.
When I sit down to study on the second floor of Martha Miller, I pull out my laptop and lay it on the table. I check my phone. I put it in my backpack. I sigh, and I pull out a folder and a notebook. I pull up Moodle (Hope’s course management system) on my browser. I check my assignments. I pull out a book from my backpack, one that has yellow pages and recently divorced with the original cover. I read and take notes. My knee bounces with anxious frustration. This is class is the worst. I type a short written assignment.
I submit my assignment. I pull out my phone. I put my phone away. I slouch in my chair and stare off into space. Five minutes later, I get out a different folder and notebook. I start again. I eventually realize that I haven’t made any progress in half an hour. I pack up, lift my backpack to my shoulder, walk downstairs, and leave the building.
Maybe I’ll study better with some coffee. I head to Lemonjello’s, the local coffee shop, and order a dark roast. I see a friend or two, and talk to them for, Oh, look! An hour has gone by. I walk away. from their table and start to realize the weight of the deadline in front of me. I pull out another book.
Now it’s dinner time. I have almost everything done. After dinner I play video games with friends.
Oh no. I just remembered I have a paper due tomorrow. It’s 11 p.m. I stay up late, finishing it. I get four hours of sleep. I wake up ten minutes before class. In the elevator, I see an email from my professor. Class has been cancelled. I take the elevator back upstairs, drop my backpack next to my bed, and fall asleep in my clothes.