BY ALARA GUVENLI
Ah, the all-encompassing refreshing feeling of a new year and a new semester beginning at the same time. It’s as if the stars and blood wolf moon have aligned and are now judging you if you don’t follow through with your new year’s resolutions. Even Mercury is out of retrograde. Literally nothing is stopping you.
“I will go to bed before 11 p.m. every weeknight, go to Southwest Rec gym five days a week, not procrastinate on my work, actually be there for my friends, and get a 4.0 GPA to make my parents proud,” you thought when you first got back to Gainesville after winter break. “This WILL be my semester, my year, 2019 is for ME!” Oh the joy and naiveté of you a mere three weeks ago.
Flash forward to now.
Alone in your room at 4 p.m., chemistry textbook lying open on your desk, mocking you. Your roommate walks in on you scarfing down a bag of salt and vinegar chips on the bed while watching “Tidying Up with Marie Kondo” at the exact same time that you told her you’d be at Southwest Rec.
“I had an emotional day, okay!” you stammer.
She lets out a slow, judging sigh, as she turns to set down her bag and begin her work. You can always get back on track tomorrow! You plan to wake up at 8 a.m. and convince yourself that you’ll do it by signing up for a HITT class at 8:30 a.m.
8 a.m. The alarm blares. Defeat. The only weights you will be lifting today are your eyelids in order to turn off your phone completely. Forget snoozing.
You decide to spend the day studying at Marston with friends to catch up on work. “If I can’t get my workout in, at least I can salvage my grades from my debilitating procrastination.” You begin to work on your sociology paper that’s due next Monday. Everything is going smoothly. Your ideas are flowing from brain to keyboard, and you’re even able to manage reminiscing on your weekend spent downtown with your friends.
“Hey, this isn’t so bad. I’m not procrastinating and all, and I actually feel really good about myself right now,” you exclaim to your friends with a smile on your face.
Then, in the blink of an eye you see your Canvas calendar as you close your tabs. Your heart plummets down your stomach and all the way into the basement of Marston. Your paper was due last Monday. A single tear rolls off your cheek as you slowly close your computer.
“Hey, hey what’s going on?” your friend asks, incredibly bewildered as to your actions.
“Maybe next year,” you croak as you walk down the stairs and back to the comfort of your dorm and Marie Kondo. This semester definitely does not spark joy.