A long time ago, I brought Spencer with me to Strozier library for an evening of frantic paper-writing. He looked around and said he absolutely loved it; with its cozy Starbucks built right in, it just seemed like the perfect learning environment.
Well, not all of us feel that way.
When I think of dear old Stroz, I think of death. I am consumed by a horrible drowning feeling. It's a nightmare that I just want to wake up from.
Sitting here, working on a huge project for the fourth straight hour, I remember quite clearly why I fucking hate this place.
Four. Hours. I was in class from 10 to 3:30, got here at 5, and it's now 9pm. I want to pull my eyes from their sockets using rusty sewing needles.
To put a nice little health-nut spin on this, let me remind everyone that stress is your ultimate enemy. Sure, it helps you get your procrastinating ass on a roll. Sure, you couldn't have written that ten page paper without it. But it's really, REALLY bad for you.
Studies have shown that stress makes you fat. Your body gets all confused and sends anything you eat right to your gut. Plus, you're probably shoving ice cream in your face while you're cramming for that midterm. Not exactly the greatest combo ever.
Also, say bye-bye to normal sleep. Stress causes you to stay up late. It doesn't let you sleep, even when you're done with whatever stupid academic obligation you decided to complete at the very last millisecond. It revs you up. Say hello to dark, baggy under-eye circles. Yum.
So, do what I do and stop giving a shit. I've been here for four hours and stopped giving a shit about three hours ago. And look how I'm turning out!
Get. Me. The hell. Out of here.
xoxo.
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