Dig deep
It’s that time of semester again, when everyone stumbles blearily out of the recess-week haze. When deadlines loom larger than the vibrance that university life promised, and every day is a battle to a not-quite-there-yet. The WKWSCI benches are never empty, filled with a steady stream of faces drawn with accumulated fatigue, dark circles pooling beneath listless eyes, caffeine-and-vitamin-C-fueled-bodies trying their best to keep going when all we want to do is tip over and pour ourselves onto the nearest surface, and concuss for the better part of two days.
But we don’t. Nobody does. Burnout is not an option so instead, we keep going. Knock back another putrid coffee, black as night, from the vending machine knowing that it won’t last the hour. (The placebo is enough.) Sometimes, instead of a coffee, it’s a mid-afternoon beer that does nothing to efface the guilt of mindlessness. Most of the time though, it’s just us and sheer will and the weight of growing up and the pride that doesn’t let us quit.
I should be doing many other productive things besides writing this. Procrastination is, after all, only a precursor for the proverbial all-nighter (I foresee my first one of the semester coming up). No avoiding crunch time now. Time to see just how deep we can dig.
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