I find finals season to be a time of both comfort and anguish.
The feeling of accomplishment is wonderful – assessing the scope of what needs to be studied, making a schedule for each issue, tracking progress on a calendar, and sticking to it. The feeling of waking up early and hunkering down for hours reminds me of college, when finals was a weirdly cozy time. Even the misery of sugar headaches and bleary vision are pleasantly familiar.
This year I’m giving up alcohol and pinterest. It’s been a little less than a week and so far I’m not missing either. (I suspect my feelings will change when I attend the Kennedy Center Honors this Sunday night, and the countless holiday receptions over the next two weeks, not to mention Vice President Biden’s Christmas Party…yes, I think it’s safe to say I’ll be missing my Savvy B on those occasions.)
But still, the routine and the self-imposed rules agree with me a few times a year. Obeying them is pure joy, especially when I can do so and look back on the day and know it was used for good.
The anguish is in the sacrifice of every other aspect of my life and the waves of guilt I drown under when I try to take a few minutes to do the laundry or plan a cute outfit.
Somewhere in my head a voice bellows “the laundry will wait! you can look cute in two weeks!” and the everyday, non-finals season voice shrieks in protest. I like the menial things in life (laundry, my appearance, the kitchen counters, etc) to be clean and welcoming and orderly. I like to look cute. Running around makeup-less in my sausage casings (freakish compression-like leggings from lululemon) with dirty hair and a backpack unnerves me.
And don’t even get me started on the fact that finals coincides with the holidays. I was studying in the library last Sunday and I was losing steam and getting fidgety. Looking for some support, I asked the girl sitting next to me “can you please tell me not to go home and decorate the house for Christmas?” because of course that was exactly what I wanted to be doing.
“You should NOT go home and decorate the house for Christmas,” she said matter of factly, as if the thought had never crossed her mind.
So maybe I’m alone in being so easily distracted.
And speaking of distractions, I’m abandoning this post (as well as discovery, pleadings, and Erie doctrine) to pursue shallower objectives: I need a new dress for the KenCen Honors. Fear not, I’m giving myself a max of two hours to find one.