Even as a staunch advocate of comprehensive health care reform, I realize there some contagious and startlingly pervasive diseases that even a publicly proctored insurance option can't help to treat.
Diseases like senioritis.
Yes, I know, it's a cliche. But take it from the horse's mouth here, people (despite my distaste of having to fit into that particular equine metaphor): it's real, and it's threatening the work ethic and productivity of previously top-notch students all across this great nation.
Once, we were the proud nerds of the school, the ones who looked to be in training for some sadistic marathon that would necessitate our dragging 30 pounds of dead weight across distances ranging from 100 feet to 1/2 a mile, and still get to class in under 6 minutes.
Once, we regarded the most minuscule, meaningless tests as no less than a defining moment within our academic careers, our own personal Waterloos, as it were. I swear I occasionally caught bars of epic John Williams music tinkling in the background.
Once, we didn't just get papers done on time, we got them done a week ahead of time, and spent countless hours fiddling with sentence structure, as our half-closed eyes flitted between the 5-page word document flickering in our eyeline and the red digital clock proclaiming it to be "1:34 AM" taunting us from our bedside table.
Once, we were snotty little juniors who proclaimed that only slackers got senioritis, and that it would, of course, NEVER happen to perfect students like us.
I have watched the greatest minds of my generation fall waste to indulging in beloved childrens literature, and semi-legally watching 90's era television. But, you know what? Maybe that's not such a bad thing. After all, we've worked our collective ass off spilling our souls into college essays, and in 7 months or so, we'll doubtless be back to our old, slightly anal-retentive selves. So, for awhile, let's just prop our feet up on our pile of barely touched textbooks and relax.
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