Off the bat, I want to acknowledge this isn’t exactly an original post. I didn’t want to have to address it because I figure so many people talk about it that it couldn’t possibly be an issue anymore, but based on idle conversation and advanced scientific analysis of social media, it’s still a problem. I’m not the first person to bring this up, and I certainly won’t be the last, but through years of hard work and determination (aka writing stupid shit on this blog) I’ve been given a soapbox, and I’m going to use it for the greater good of society. That being said, I now bring to you the number one piece of advice I have learned in college, the best possible tip to pay attention to if you want people to not hate you as a person: If you ever feel the need to complain about finals, take a second and follow these three easy steps: stop, think about it, and then don’t do fucking anything because literally no one wants to hear what you have to say.
Look, I get it: Shit is stressful, sleep is minimal, OMG crowded library blah, blah, blah. But I stopped caring about my classes months ago. Why in God’s name would I want to hear you bitch about yours? It’s really great that you want to get the perfect GPA and go to med school and make real money in a real career and not have your parents be incredibly disappointed that they spent so much money on an education just so their son could write blogs on the Internet. I know it sucks memorizing the chemical structures of enzymes or whatever it is that people with real majors do, but it’s par for the course. I signed up for the fake majors I’m pursuing because I realized early on I don’t plan on doing anything particularly notable with my life. It doesn’t take much hard work to go nowhere. Consequently, if your academic path contains the words “philosophy,” “theater,” “communications,” or “art,” you have no reason to ever complain about anything. On the other hand, the more ambitious students signed up for the real majors because they actually had initiative. But with those real majors comes real work, because your real job will one day have real consequences. I’m sure I’ll really appreciate you having spent your timing in college learning your shit when you perform my liver transplant in a few years, after which you’ll go home and fall asleep on your bed made of hundred dollar bills and pillows filled with cocaine. But when I go to the doctor’s I don’t ask to read his Facebook posts about how stressful it was to eventually graduate. A greater bitch means greater reward in the long run.
Just remember, everyone is in the same boat. There’s no need to turn your academic inadequacies into a dick measuring contest of how fucked you are. This week, everyone is Patrick Ewing and the duct tape is out in full force. But finals only suck as much as you let them suck. You can choose to give a shit or not, but don’t make other people suffer because you try too hard. If you were really “sooooo busy,” you wouldn’t have time to complain about it on the Internet. For those of you that still feel the need to vent, think about it this way: For the admission price of a of one shitty week once a semester, you get the opportunity to spend four years of your life in one of the most absurdly unstructured and unsupervised environments not called The Middle East a person can every experience. It’s astupid privilege most of us don’t deserve and don’t appreciate, but it’s a privilege nonetheless. For the love of God, cherish it.
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