This quarter is in the history books, and it’s the first one I doubt I’ll pull another 4.0. It’s not just that these classes were harder- and they were- but for some reason, I had a snafu with some classes that were supposed to be dropped but are showing on my transcripts as my never having shown up. I dropped them in an appointment with my advisor, so I know it can be worked out, but dang I hate seeing those numbers show up- even for a little while. Also, I am not eager to do the gymnastics the university requires I do to prove that I’m not a slacker. Especially since I’m currently in a huge finals hangover.
On Wednesday night, I submitted a 14 page paper to my last class this quarter, and since then I’ve had that feeling like when you take a couple of Benedryl and can’t shake the fog from your noodle. I know I need to get in and talk to my advisor. I know I need to register for spring classes. I know I need to petition about the drop- and I will, of course, do all of those things. But for a few minutes (days?) I really want to just lay here in a lump and stare out the window at the slowly burgeoning leathery leaves of tulips pulling themselves up through the mulch and think about nothing at all. I’m tired.
Give me few days and I’ll find my sparkle again, I have no doubt. It’s just finals-hangover, coupled with the dregs of winter hanging on with icy tenacity. Give me some blue sky, some yellow sunlight and some green grass, and I know I’ll feel like getting back on the horse- because that’s just what you do. In the meantime, I’ll saddle up anyway- because that’s just what you do, too. At least, it is if you’re me.
On a side note, I want to thank everyone who left comments on the last post. Blogging sometimes feels like yelling into the abyss, and it was a treat for me to read about who comes here and peeks in on my life, (and why, which was crazy) and to learn a bit about you. I really mean it- thank you!
4 thoughts on “Finals Hangover”
My husband always get sick as soon as finals are done. I think it’s his body saying, “That was hard. We held it together this long. Now we’re weak and vulnerable.”
Hope the sun shines down on you!
I meant to say that my husband always *gets* sick when finals are done. I hate my own typos!
I always got deathly ill as soon as finals were over. It was like as soon as I let myself relax a tiny bit, my entire immune system plummeted.
I know- I’m curled up in my bed, and I’m totally unable to get warm, despite the house being comfortable. Stupid finals. Stupid last days of winter. Rawr.
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