You know it’s the end of the term because you’re lying in bed with an empty hole in your chest, the weight of its vastness anchoring your entire body to the hard mattress so that it hurts to even turn your head to look at the clock. There’s no reason to check the time, nor jump out of bed in a rush to grab coffee before class. You have severe withdrawal symptoms from 1500 hours of Philosophy and 1515 hours of Organic Chemistry and you feel guilty for sleeping in because you have mastered the art of being busy. The need to always be doing something gnaws at you so that it’s uncomfortable to turn on your side and go back to sleep.
This academic drug that has kept you going for 10 weeks is suddenly stripped away in 48 hours and you don’t know how to deal with not having anything to deal with. You don’t know how to work around not having anything to do. You don’t know how to take a break –you have absolutely no idea what it means to rest. Friends? What friends? They’re all in bed – strapped by their various weights to their various mattresses in various spots across campus. Some with cursed hangovers, others with unintended stay-overs… but it’s the same vibe all around. Was that all there was to it? Was that all it amounted to?
In a few days, you will watch these friends stand up on a podium and receive a piece of paper that certifies their proficiency in being busy bodies. Expert "doers." They will call out their names one by one and you will congratulate and cheer them on for all their hard work. You are next in line and a cold shiver strolls down your spine, taking its sweet time to get to the lower arch of your back. It stays there, building its nest and waiting for its moment to break free when you finally make your way up that podium to receive your Dartmouth Degree. Four years in a prestigious institution to get a piece of paper that is a positive litmus test for increased likelihood of heart disease. Because you never learned how to take a break, never learnt how to fail, never learned how to be content. It’s a sick cycle this life, when the sun rises and sets on your little checklist of achievements. That perfect grade, that perfect career, that perfect family, the perfect retirement -- if you make it that far.
You’re always striving, but never quite reaching. It’s a 3.9 – but it could’ve been a 4.0. It’s not good enough.
“So where are you going for high school?” “Where are you applying for college?” “What are you up to this summer?” “What are you doing after graduation?” “What new thing will you keep yourself busy with until your heart throws in the towel and stops beating for good?”
“Gee, I really don’t know Bob. But I’m so glad that things worked out for you and you landed that job on Wall Street! Very nicely done!” At the very least, you’ll have a nice view and a comfortable couch to sit on as we wait for the Grim Reaper.
