By the time you start reading this short column on your way to the Bean or your god-forsaken class that you’ve been dreading since day one, let me just enlighten you that over the last 66,600 seconds I have been to the brink of boiling with hot anger. Spring 2017 needs to come to a drastic close.
I’m pretty sure that if hell existed, Satan would make his prisoners relive the last two weeks of a college semester over and over again.
The constant nagging of professors hovered over your ear reminding you over and over again about the importance of your research paper because god-forbid it’s even a second late or else Canvas will look straight at you and scream “Canvas is watching you” as your perfectly good work is labeled late.
Or how about the constant activities piling up on your Google calendar one on top of the other only to serve the purpose of an elaborate, mourning goodbye for seniors that really can be done over a short email.
Let’s not forget about coworkers hanging over your shoulders like wet rags dragging you down into an abyss of pure anger and solitude until you finally explode with sass, rudeness and ruthless comments.
All of this stacking on top as you try to remember the last time you called your mom, ate a meal or watered your dead plant outside your door facing the constant, dusty Abilene wind. Your poor plant facing all the trials of the environment and watching your zombie-like body walk in and out of the door in a constant rhythm; clocking in and checking out. Like a child, your plant waits for attention and wants you to be happy as its little leaves crumble and dry-up, but it still holds on. It’s waiting for you to wake up and finally snap, so that maybe one day you’ll realize that nothing you do now matters.
Your research paper about how corn was one of the most profitable crops in Australia during the 17th century will never come in handy unless you have consciously decided to dedicate your entire small life to Australian crops- to which I say, good luck. Your never ending cycle of senior farewell activities will come to an end on May 13 (and then start again next spring). Your coworkers will be jerks until the day you quit, so what are you waiting for?
Life seems to really be taking its sweet time these past few weeks and it’s okay to be mad at the world and snap when you need to. You are human. You deserve to be mad. I deserve to be mad. Now, if you will excuse me, life has some business to take care of and I doubt it’s going to be anything less than chaotic.