Update: In Which the Student Apologizes for Falling Behind (Yet Again)

Normally, here is where I say “well golly gee, folks, long time no see” and then make a resolution against my better judgment to post more for you fine folks of the Interwebs.

(Everything except for the last six words is BS.) 

I’ve been gone awhile and, as per usual, my posting has been sporadic at best. My other blog has been receiving the majority of my attention, but I don’t even post with any regularity there either.

After this post, I’m going to disappear again. I could excuse myself because this is dead week and finals are going to follow shortly after, but you and I both know that if I really felt like updating, I’d certainly do it. Any student knows that watching paint dry can be a good enough excuse for procrastinating on homework and studying.

Can Cairn | Stressing Out College

Who says boredom can’t be productive?

So I’m not going to whisper sweet nothings in your ear and give you caressing reassurances that I’ll stop misusing you. The simple truth is that my mind is mush and I need to rediscover my motivation for writing and vomiting my ideas for you all to read. Dear Reader, you deserve better. So here’s what I’m actually going to do:

First, I’m going to find a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

Second, I’m going to make my way through the neglected shows in my DVR (Don’t worry, Leslie Knope, I’m coming!)

Third, I’m going to sleep.

Fourth, I’m going to sleep some more.

Fifth, I’m just going to post when I’m going to post.

And that’s that. I have nothing more to say at the moment, except for I miss you guys and hope to chat with y’all more soon.

Cheers,

SOS

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Dead Week: I’M DOING MY BEST(ish)

I'm doing my best | Stressing Out College | stressingoutstudent

“I’M DOING MY BEST. A journal in which to prove that despite any indications to the contrary I am constantly working on myself and trying to become the very best me even though it’s a much slower and harder process than Oprah and Deepak would have me believe and while I would sometimes prefer just to swallow a pill or have a personality transplant I will keep plugging away at this infernal self-improvement thing until I’ve done so well I can come back in my next life as a golden retriever.”

One of those life philosophy/human condition themed journals you find in the non-book merchandise section of Barnes and Noble. Shallow as it might be, it still tickled my study-numbed funny bone.

I’ll be back with a proper blog post soon, I pinky swear.

Scrap Paper Poetry #7: The Studying Dead

Scrap Paper Poetry #7
The students crawl in,
The students crawl out
They stalk the library
And lug about
Their arm-and-leg textbooks
And coffee stained pages
With eyes lacking luster-
They haven’t slept in ages.
It’s Dead Week – Beware
For the dead shall walk
Through dorm rooms, cafes,
And each campus block.
We hunger for brains
And will never rest
Until judgment day:
That sweet final test.


And holy balls- did you watch The Walking Dead? Good reminder of the benefits of staying ahead ((badum tss)). Good luck with finals, fellow students! And to all else, good luck with… life!

In Which the Student Commits Somnicide

Writing a eulogy can be fun. Especially when no one actually died. In honor of dead week, here is a eulogy/goodbye letter to our oft sacrificed friend Sleep.

My Sleep

(b. 1990’s; d. Whenever I started doing all-nighters)

“Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.” – Oscar Wilde

Here we are, my friend, my love, my bedtop companion. Here we are. Who could have known it would end like this for you, my dear friend? I certainly hadn’t expected it. And I’m sure you hadn’t seen it coming either. I mean, who dies by ballpoint pen? I don’t remember what I was doing with that pen in my hand – Physics? Macbeth essay? Who frickin’ cares what it was. The important point was that the pen was in my hand and I had no idea what I was doing. I’m sure you would remember if you were here right now. You always had such an amazing memory, albeit a very strange and imaginative way of relaying it. I remember one time being deep in you and having you show me some really crazy sh*t. But you always knew what I liked. (Mmm, Hugh Laurie).

Sleep, you’ve been with me my whole life and I’ve felt privileged to have been a part of yours. I’m sorry for murdering you, buddy. No hard feelings, right? Well, of course no hard feelings because you’re dead. But I know you wouldn’t take it badly if you were still here with us. Academics and having a life needed to come first and you weren’t willing to off yourself. Always such a sensitive and tender one you were. You never wanted me to get out of bed with you. You were always there for me during all those boring lectures. You held me tightly under the covers during the weekends – ever the persuasive sweet talker.

But you know, you were kind of an ass, too. Yeah, this is supposed to be a sweet parting letter with lovey dovey sentiments and all, but you’re dead now, so what are you going to do about it? Nothing? That’s what I thought. What the hell was up with the coyness and screwing with me? You often toyed with me, slipping me in and out, and then holding me at arm’s length so that when I needed you most all you did was smile at me and never let me fall into you. You know I needed you that night before that calculus exam. As well as that night before that twilight flight. And the night before my first day of college! You knew how important all those were to me and then like some jealous mofo you abandoned me for God only knows where. So you see that beautiful quote by the ever-luscious Oscar Wilde? Well, that ain’t what’s waiting for you. I hope you spend the rest of your non-existence in a series of appearing-in-public-naked nightmares, you sadistic, soporific bastard. Dead week and finals are going to be a helluva blast without you. Good riddance, ’cause I’m not gonna’ need you for Spring Break either. Suck it.

To all those about to take exams at the expense of their sleep, I bid you a tearful good luck!

On the Fourth Day of Dead Week

Deck the halls with sticky notes, dry erase markings, and shreds of the tattered and battered remains of our sanity as we enter our favorite time of year: Dead Week.

By “we,” I refer to students. And by “year,” I mean term, whether it’s a quarter, trimester, or semester. So… Fa la la la la, la la la la.

The only things standing between us and – nay, guarding with bared teeth and chesty growl – winter freedom are finals. Ah, finals, our old friend. It seems like only a few weeks have passed since we had to encounter your cousins, the midterms. Why so eager for a family reunion? I assure you the midterms were more than enough to tide us over for[ever] a very long time. So please, continue staying at bay off in the distance. Believe us: we like you better there. It’s almost better than having you behind us and out of sight.

Fellow college students, never fear. Hang in there. Stay strong. And golden. For the freedom that lay before us at the end of the following week shall be sweet and pure and holy. Just a few more days, fellow academic warriors, but tonight… we dine in hell – the hell of cramming and crying and procrastinating and repeating. So eat heartily, my friends, and then revel in the just desserts on the horizon, with the sweet corn syrup of success and triumph dripping down your chin.

Study hard and study long! For on the morrow, the winter break is yours for the taking!

300

THIS IS… an overused meme.

Good luck. And de-stress in the comments section.