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The ghost of finals past

I am writing this article for you in my townhouse, surrounded by seven books, a graphing calculator, and four cans of Coke. It is quite obvious that I have been managing stress in my own unique and entirely disgusting way.

I have honestly forgotten what it was like in high school when my night ended at midnight and I didn’t actually need the triple-shot espresso black and white mocha to get me to noon. Every meme this week that loosely mentions the zero feelings I have right now is kind of true.

I haven’t always been this stressed or even upset about finals in the past. In fact, I used to live for it, because it meant I was one semester more removed from being a freshman, or from being new.

My first semester freshman year was met with a final paper of 14 pages about a place I would consider a utopia. I loved it; I honestly do not remember any of my other finals. That was the year of firsts for me–“first college anything.” I was more excited to be in college and simply doing something that I couldn’t even be upset about writing that paper. I was proud of myself for committing. I had made so many friends and, to be honest, being able to turn around and have someone help me, study with me or know to just LET me sleep in the study room was all I wanted. The semester ending my freshman year was fantastic as well. It was marked by some of the first really difficult papers in philosophy, welcoming me to my discipline as well as they could. I distinctly remember my methods for success freshman year included incredible amounts of ROCKSTAR “Juiced” and Nutella.

Sophomore year, I took religion and more philosophy courses and I was not overwhelmed, or underwhelmed. Maybe just whelmed. Is that a thing?  I was not surprised by the amount I had to do. Mostly the social circles I had joined and their ability to get work done impressed me. I was surrounded by people who were wildly involved and were amazing.

Sophomore year blending into junior year has me preparing for finals in a completely different way than before. I have not pulled a single all-nighter, nor have I had to hook myself up to an IV of caffeine. Approaching everything this year with a calm outlook has been my goal. I need to be more patient with myself.

Growing through these two-and-a-half years of difficult schooling has been an amazing experience. My friends have shifted, changed and grown as well. I am proud to be a part of this difficult process that means another semester came and went and left us in the dust.

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