Midterm Mélange

Midterm Mélange

Midterm Mélange

Two shots of absinthe
A half-cooked, mostly-still-liquid FoCo cookie
A shot of KAF espresso
Procrastination

It’s four in the morning. You’ve just woken up. After quickly calculating the time it takes to shower, get ready, and make it to Steele for the 10A, you estimate that you have about five hours and twenty minutes to study for the looming monolith of a midterm. Regret overcomes other feelings as you bemoan staying up ‘til midnight to finish that last episode of Game of Thrones. Fatigue grips each and every joint and the harsh fluorescent lights burn through the fibers of your being.

Thus, the first sip. The flavors coalesce in a menthol-tinted richness. Within a few minutes you can feel the new energy making its way through your body. Your limbs unhitch, your complexion brightens, and all is right in the world. It’s time for business. And that business is chemistry.

C6H12O6. Two carbons and a hydroxyl. 1,3,7-Trimethylpurine-2,6-dione. It all makes sense. You understand. Time passes as if it were a movie, with the clock being wound at marathon pace. For the entire period of timeless learning, your phone wasn’t touched once. All of a sudden, the typical morning jingle goes off. You snap out of your phase of wonder, the land of learning; it’s time. Pen and paper, that 20% of your final grade is in your back pocket. Call me daddy, premed curriculum. Actually, make that Doctor Daddy now.

And you set off across campus. Your only pit stop is Novack. But you’re beyond taste. You just need the fuel to fill your stomach so that the emptiness doesn’t distract from the task at hand. Two cold egg rolls. DBA. Irrelevant. The journey continues, and ahead lies the burnished brick of Fairchild. This is it. Effortlessly you glide through the halls, find the classroom, and take a seat to get to work. You slip out of your trance as you begin the dreaded midterm. King Arthur, the Green FoCo Fairy, did well by you.

By Sheriff Rick Grimes