Well, it appears to be January again. Without surprise, there are several things you can always count on during this time of year. My personal favorite is the perpetual disappointment Eagles fans feel, with their team trying their hardest to blow a playoff run. The tears of Eagles fans keep me going during the winter.
This is also a time of new beginnings. New year, new semester. Kids of all ages go back to school after the New Year, fresh off of holiday gatherings and celebrations.
The frenzied consumerism of Christmas fades into a drunken night of New Year’s ball-dropping, with all the family and friend togetherness sandwiched in between.
After such a laidback, enjoyable break, it can be difficult to adjust to the obligations school requires, however minimal they may be.
I know it’s always tough for me, but then again, I don’t think I’m a prime example.
I’ve never been much for obligations, deadlines or anything similar, so the non-adjustment for me is more so skipping these obligations than actually achieving them. Not much difference in my routine, you see?
However, there are those of you out there who are not uber-slackers, as I consider
myself to be. You’re the ones who order
all your books prior to the start of the semester. You’re the ones who get up for 8:40 a.m. classes rather than arrange your schedule to ensure a nice sleep until the afternoon.
You’re the ones who anticipate it might take more than two minutes to find a parking spot on campus.
You’re the ones I despise.
My biggest qualm about starting a new semester is finding out what kind of overachievers will be in my classes. Now, there’s nothing wrong with these people. I am just bitter and miserable when I’m in some of my classes, and I can’t stand when some Einstein kills a curve, or when some idiot argues semantics in a core class I’m trying to peacefully sleep my way through.
Let’s make it easy on everyone, OK? Let’s all group together to set the bar lower, so rather than jumping over it, we can step over it, shuffle over it, or do the worm over it, if you’re so inclined. There are plenty of opportunities for you to be an overachiever throughout life, so don’t force me to compete.
Not right now, anyway.
Of course, these motivated people will have their nice Mercedeses and BMWs someday,
while I will probably be parking them. That’s OK. I prefer old Saabs anyway, so this shouldn’t affect my lifestyle choices too much.
At least spring semester is beginning, which makes me happy, however, slightly. There is something to look forward to at the end of the spring semester, which is obviously summer and all of the wonderful perks it brings along with it. Frisbee. Bikes. Shorts. Rooftops and decks with grills and coolers full of summer ales.
This beats out what we have to look forward
to at the end of the fall semester, namely,
Eli Manning falling apart just in time for the holidays and those dumb TV Christmas specials.
It’s hard sloshing through a semester knowing your reward at the end is stubborn, cold weather and a new seasonal Tim Allen movie lacking creativity. When did this guy become Santa Claus anyway?
A convicted former drug dealer’s ascension
to the throne of St. Nick proves there might be hope for me someday. While I stumble to the finish line of this semester, I know there will be people sprinting to the front of the pack. But in Tim Allen’s case, it didn’t matter.
He still became Santa Claus despite a woeful record, legally and in all other fields. And if there’s one person I look to for inspiration, it’s obviously the Tool Man. So take it easy this semester; I know I will, and apparently, I might become a success someday by loafing my college years away. And then you, the overachiever with your 4.0s and internships might become nothing more than a valet driver. You will be parking my ’86 Saab someday. Maybe.
Mike Gleeson can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.