Finals week is coming up, and you have approximately 30 hours of work to do. It’s been about five days since you’ve gotten a good night’s rest, and you are convinced you are vibrating. You should probably get some sleep, but you know better. You can stick it out until winter break, otherwise known as “Coma Season.” Once finals are over, you can sleep until winter term.
Instead of going to bed like a responsible student, you stay up to work on a ten-page paper. You open up your laptop, but it won’t turn on. You give up within seconds and head to a computer lab. In the computer lab, you sit down at a computer. To your surprise, you’ve already logged in. How does the computer know that you need to work? You have definitely never signed into this computer before. You shrug off the strange anomaly. This is nothing new. You should expect this by now.
You complete your paper by alternating between sips of energy drinks and writing sentences. Finally, it’s time to print your half-hearted paper. You go to the printer login and try to click on your name. The login screen pops up for half a second before disappearing. You try again and again, but it will not open long enough for you to put in your password. You let out a groan. Of course the printer is teasing you. That’s just the kind of thing that happens right before finals.
You scribble out your paper in the last writing tool you have at the end of the term: a crayon you picked up on the bathroom floor on the fourth floor of Warch. Halfway through scribbling, your eyelids start to droop. Before you know it, you are immersed in the deep darkness of sleep.
Hours later, you wake up. You stretch and look at the paper that you wrote your entire essay on. It’s literally just scribbles in green crayon. You sigh and walk to the computer lab. You log on to the computer and print your paper. It works perfectly. That’s strange.
Curious about the normal nature of your day, you step outside. You look around and notice posters for the band you wanted to see. Were they always around? You had struggled to find them recently and had to ride a tree to the top of the “Nipple of Knowledge” to find them.
You stumble onto College Ave. and cross the street. Oddly enough, you’re able to walk past College Ave. and onto N Drew St. You have never been able to do that before. Now distraught, you go back to campus and start asking strangers, “Do you remember the Mail Room fiasco at the beginning of term where UPS chucked packages at students?” and “What do you mean LU works has more than one listing?”
After people ask you multiple times if you’re okay, you realize that your entire term has made no sense. You go back to your room and reflect. The only thing that has changed is a good night’s sleep.
