It’s Friday before finals week. I should be scrambling to finish final projects, cramming for exams, and having a classic Annie Perry stress-induced panic attack.
I’m not having any of that.
This is what I was like last year:
This is how I am this year:
This year, I have one final, and it’s in my editing class. I have to edit a few articles and I’m allowed to have my AP Stylebook and dictionary handy. Not exactly the type of final you have to study for for hours on end. I feel prepared for this assignment, thanks to all of the editing I’ve done this semester.
I’m going home in two days, while the rest of East Lansing stays on campus to study for exams.
It feels refreshing to know I’m almost done and don’t have to stress, but it also feels so weird. At this point last year, I was a wreck. I was frantically finishing up my journalism project and still had three exams to study for.
I’ve realized something about myself: I don’t like not being busy. I think that explains some of the weird feelings I’ve experienced this year–it’s not like last spring, when I was staying up until 2am nearly every night finishing my history reading or stressing out over confusing linguistic trees (ack ack ack!).
Wait. I’m worrying about not being stressed out?! What is wrong with me?
To everyone going crazy with stress: Please don’t hate me.