I shouldn’t have been stressed. Yet, all I wanted to do was find a corner and cry as I awaited my New Testament final. The Psychology exam was practically a delight to take and the essay for that other class I turned in with an acceptable degree of satisfaction. So I couldn’t quite rationalize my feelings of being swallowed up by this viciously dark shadow of finals week. Even so, at 11 a.m. I was slumping further into a couch on the third floor of the library and staring hopelessly at pages of enigmatic, black inked notes. My eyes glazed over the phrases: “To Christians dispersed in Asia Minor” and “Written in bad Greek.” All the suppressed anxiety, which I had nervously shoved into the closed over the weekend, had escaped and made a mess in my head.
Even after I turned in my scantron sheet and strode out of that New Testament classroom for the last time, I still felt like volunteering for a magician’s vanishing act. But I ended up heading back to my dorm with a sandwich and a copy of Disney’s “The Emperor’s New Groove.”
Thankfully, I also allowed another human being to talk to me, which really got me out of my funk. However, I’m beginning to believe that as hard as you may try, you can never escape final’s week unscathed.
P.S. I think I know where the “Freshmen 15” comes from. It’s most likely a result of all that candy people offer you during exams.