It's a constant attempt at balance. An attempt usually followed immediately by a failure to maintain that balance. Just when one thing is completed, another arises and demands your immediate attention -- the cycle. New information to absorb piles in various forms in the corner of your room: books, loose files, course packets, legal pads. The work is daunting, and the goal is unattainable. Just to keep it interesting, throw in desire. Now you have to balance the work for each course or job or whatever and try to control the incessant longings of your heart.
In fact, this article is being written as another member of the enormous list next to my desk -- this probably very obvious and I apologize for that. The simple fact is that work at U.Va. doesn't stop. Not that it does at other top-ranked universities, but we are all at this one, so they aren't really my immediate concern. Even when you actively try and feel strongly about your final product, you get it back from the teacher or T.A. two days later and it has a "B" on it in large print. The "B" is staring at you. It is laughing.
But if you're not living up to your desired potential, perhaps you should check to make sure that everything is in balance. Well, I guess having a paper or an exam every day of the week is, in a sense, balanced, but then what happens to your release? Where does your time off go?
Right now it is being taunted by letters other than "B." The GIANT Q is staring at you too. The huge Q on the green bottle of NyQuil looks at you, reminds you of the "B" and suggests that you indulge in several capfuls and pass out for a few hours -- do not follow the Q!
So then you focus, you pick up the book you need to read to write some ridiculous take-home essay and Mulberry beeps. You can't control the excitement of both receiving new mail and deleting junk mail, so you put the book back down and check it. Instead of junk though, you get a message from a detective in Coralville, Iowa informing you that someone has stolen your identity and your credit history is most likely in trouble (true story). And the best thing about it is you spend most of your time stressing out about school work and wondering what you are going to do with your life. You are constantly questioning the very nature of your identity, only to find out that it might have been stolen by some sleaze-ball from North Carolina. The "B" is laughing at you. The Q looks friendlier now.
Going to classes gets to be a struggle since you are talking about a new book and you still haven't started the one from last week. Instead of taking notes, you just keep thinking about the paper due tomorrow and how in the hell you are going to finish it. The sparse notes you did scribble down in this morning's lecture are almost completely illegible now because your hands were jittering violently with caffeine. When class is finally over, you stand up too fast, and the blood moves too quickly causing you to become temporarily blind and disoriented. Luckily, five seconds later you can see again, but your eyes immediately focus on the list of assignments for the week and you wish you could black out again.
You can make it. Stuff the "B" in the back of your folder, brew another pot of French roast and hide the NyQuil under the sink. Finish all the crap in the way and get to what's really important: this coming Friday night. Halloween weekend is at hand.
The best holiday of the year is almost here, and thank God we get to dress up in costumes to get wasted and pretend like someone else. Halloween is on a Sunday, which is bizarre, so I am going to go ahead and suggest that everyone start celebrating at five o'clock on Friday and quit Monday morning a few minutes before your first class. Now that's balance! Of course you are not allowed to take your costume off all weekend. You must live and sleep as your chosen identity and do it well. If you don't, it might get stolen and used to form a company in Iowa. Then you'll just be back with the "B" and the Q, and thinking about what you are going to dress up as next year.
Happy Halloween, and don't forget to have one for me -- especially if you are going out before Friday since I will be waist deep in work.
Brett Meeks can be reached at meeks@cavalierdaily.com
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