We regret our choice to take summer classes. As week four of the first summer session comes to a close, students all over campus are beginning to reach peak levels of academic suffering. The delusional excitement we once had for our courses is but a mere speck in our rear view mirror. We know that an education is a privilege, but that doesn’t make last Tuesday’s all-nighter of studying hurt any less Wednesday morning.
It’s week one and we’re psyched to be making headway in our course load for next fall. Alexander Hamilton himself couldn’t have advised a wiser investment in our future. Those of us earning a summer minor are stoked to be doing something so major with our summer break.
As week two creeps up on us, we begin to realize how demanding a six-week course will be. The rapid pace of our classes could beat Usain Bolt in a 100-meter dash. As soon as we turn in one assignment, 14 more pop up on our “To Do” list on bCourses. It’s like whack-a-mole on crack – but much worse.
Just as we’re getting used to the fact that summer courses are marathons completed at the pace of a sprint, week three knocks us off our feet. The routine we had established is blown to bits by midterms and papers.We were so close to having a grip on this whole thing. How there could possibly be so much material to test us on after only 10 days of class is beyond us.
Week four is just brutal. Our quarter system friends are beginning to rejoice in the freedom of summer while we’re trapped inside of lecture halls for two more weeks of instruction. This makes our mid May dismissal seem like a mockery.
Week five. Screw it. Someone bring us a white flag, we’re ready to surrender. To make matters worse, the weather is teasing us. The way that it gets gloriously sunny just as our classes finally end for the day, breaks our spirits. The beautiful weather outside just taunts us as we lock ourselves away in Moffit for the 21st week in a row.
We plan on getting through week six by relying solely on adrenaline. The current game plan is to just not fail anything. Is it sheer coincidence that ‘summer’ and ‘suffer’ are just one letter swap away from being the same word? We think not.
Can we go home yet?
Contact Amanda Chung at [email protected].