Somehow, one of our staff members has lucked into having no midterms this week. This anonymous Bwogger tells us what it’s like to be “free” this week–or, rather, what we think it’s like.
Everyone around me is, in their words, “dying.” On this busy week of ours, libraries are packed and hope is scarce. “One more week,” my roommate tells me, “and then I can be a real person again.” Life passes you all by, for all you can focus on is the futile banality of your studies. But I am free. I think, I play, and I live better than you do for this one week. I am a humanities student, I have no midterms, and you shall kneel before my immense power.
How did this all happen? It started when I crafted my schedule so that every class of mine would be in Dodge and Hamilton. Your course in Pupin will give you work, and your lecture in Mathematics will only give you two midterms if you’re lucky. Dodge? Dodge is easy living. We drink on the sixth floor and do lines on the eighth. Our teachers tell us the answers on our tests, when we even have them. The curve is so high, it doesn’t fit on the graph. Actually, no, we can barely even read graphs–we’re not STEM kids.
Then there are the one credit classes. I live for these. Not only do they fulfill my major, but we don’t have midterms. My one-on-one’s barely even have grades, and my small group courses are way too short to command a midterm. Courseworks says I’m taking seven classes this semester, but I’m really taking four plus three “one free credit” tokens.
Of course, a bit of it was luck. My literature teacher happens to be amazing enough to just give us a paper, and my essay for another class isn’t even due until the end of the break. I could have midterms for other subjects, but my professors are the real MVPs. I don’t just go for the gold nugget on CULPA. All I need to see are two words–“No Midterm.”
So how does it feel, you might ask, to know that everyone on campus wants to be? It feels beautiful. It feels powerful. Sure, I have to write essays, but not many. Besides, you can do an essay whenever you want – I’m not held down. I can play four hours of Super Smash Brothers without fear of reproach in the form of a letter grade. I can go all the way to Trader Joe’s for my groceries. I am not bound by time. This week, I am the most alive person on campus. My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: look on your work and despair.
But not king of getting a job? via Shutterstock