I spent part of my Winter Break working at my dad's office. My official task was "information consolidation," which actually meant that I spent eight hours a day moving papers from one file to another file, and then shelving them in an enormous storage room. During the process, I got more paper cuts than I could count, consumed more caffeine than was probably wise and nearly died from boredom.
I also came to realize something: I hate working.
I hate it. I hate getting up before 7 a.m., rushing through my shower and breakfast to get out the door, and spending 30 minutes stuck in rush-hour traffic. I hate the weak instant coffee served in offices, and I hate packing a lunch that inevitably consists of a boring, soggy turkey sandwich. I hate sitting at a desk for four hours, taking a tiny break for lunch and then sitting on my butt for another four hours. I absolutely and truly hate work.
And the worst thing about this revelation is that it comes mere months before I leave that protected, hallowed space that is U.Va. and enter the working world full-time. Yes, it's terrifying but true: I've arrived at that dreaded period of college life - the Final Semester.
With only four months to go until Charlottesville becomes a mere fragment of my past and college an idyllic memory to which I'll long to return, I've realized that I need to make the most of the time I have left. If what I have to look forward to are lengthy days confined to a cubicle and a life without windows, human interaction or midday episodes of "One Tree Hill" reruns - I know I'm not the only person watching SoapNet weekdays from 3:00 to 4:00 p.m. - then I need to make this semester the best ever.
Granted, I say that every semester, and time always seems to run away from me until it's finals week and I realize I haven't hosted a margarita night at my apartment, taken a spontaneous road trip, been steam tunneling or done any of the 400 other things I swore I'd do this term. This time around, however, I've figured out a way to prevent that from happening. I will publicly state my intentions in the school paper, providing myself with more than 10,000 readers to hold me accountable and thereby securing for myself a truly fabulous final semester.
And so, in the full knowledge that by committing myself to accomplishing these intentions I run the risk of receiving thousands of disappointed e-mails from readers everywhere -
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