My Series of Unfortunate Events

There is nothing redeeming about finals week. Nothing. It is a blood bath of horrific exhaustion, frustration, and stress. This morning was my nightmare on B-Mont street. Last night I studied until about 1AM and then set my phone alarm for 5:30AM so I could get in some solid hours of studying before I took it at 8AM. At about 5:00AM, I woke up, went to the bathroom, and celebrated the fact that I had 30 more minutes of blissful slumbering. This is the conversation, that in my frame of reference, commenced a few minutes later.

Sars: L, when is your final?

L: (mumbling into my pillow) 8AM. Why?

Sars: So like in 30 minutes?

L: No. It isn't even 5:30AM yet.

Sars: Um...it is 7:30AM

I threw off my covers in a panic and started searching for my failure of a phone. Turns out my phone is not a failure. I just happened to leave it in the hallway when I got up to go to the bathroom and it had been going off dutifully for the past two hours. As I ransacked my drawers, I looked mournfully at the living mass of laundry I haven't done for the past three weeks. Magnificent. I grabbed my flip-flops and Sars sweetly drove me as close to campus as she could. I stepped out of the car to pouring rain. Of course I didn't have a coat and my shoes were completely impractical for the weather. After almost slipping for the fourth time, I angrily wrenched off my flip-flops and stomped my barefoot self to the cursed room where my final was being administered. I was also wearing my glasses so everything looked like a kaleidescope of death. As I flung open the door to the room , I watched as each of my peers turned to gawk at the hideous being blocking their escape to happiness. An audible shudder tore through the class and some poor soul fainted. There I was, unshowered, starving, unprepared, barefoot, wet, bespectacled, foaming at the mouth and ready to attack anyone who looked happy. Instead of initiating the monstrous rampage I was highly contemplating, I flung myself into one of the desks. My fellow students spent the next two hours gnawing their fingernails to the bone with worry that at any second the unthinkable would happen: my wrath would be unleashed on their innocent selves. They were lucky. I fear for the other innocents who might cross my path in the next three days. If Cecil wants to negotiate a peace treaty, I am more than willing to cooperate. I won't unleash the beast if he promises to give me A's on all my finals, packs and cleans my room for me, moves all my stuff to the Riv, goes to LabCorp so I can send in my formal agreement to Watson, and buys all of my roommates and I a plane ticket to Oregon. Happy Finals Week Everyone!

L