Imagine I have a cup. A big, giant cup labeled “College” that holds liquid knowledge. No, I didn't mean for that to rhyme. I am more than half-way done with college, and even though I try to chug the remaining liquid from the cup, it seems to stay half-full. I try to be positive when I say this, in the spirit of “I'm a half-full cup kind of girl,” but it's hard to be positive when the liquid in the cup tastes like licorice-flavored cough syrup. In that case, I want it to be half-empty, or just to disappear entirely.
If you can't tell, this is a stressful time for me. I've got midterm exams in all my classes, an appointment with my doctor at some point (the date was scheduled a year ago, and trust me-it's long forgotten), and more diapers, attitudes, and accidents than I want to deal with. This time of year, which I no longer call “fall,” but rather “Midterm season,”  has the potential to be the death of me. I'm guessing this has something to do with my dirty little secret: procrastination. Doesn't that word look negative? I'll just use a positive code word for procrastination, like exercise.
Midterm Season is awful because it usually reminds me just how behind in my classes I really am. It forces me to face extent of my exercise head-on. This isn't a positive feeling. However, it usually gives me the kick-start I need to finish the semester and avoid (complete) failure. Thanks, Midterm Season.
I don't like this time of year because I end up dumping a lot of useless information into my brain, which could overload it and short-circuit me. Why do I have to walk around this Earth knowing the 12 different ways a manager can hold a meeting? Or that the total amount of energy in the universe is slowly declining? I don't want to know that! If ignorance is bliss, that's what I want. Because this stuff is stressing me out. I can't carry this weight on my shoulders PLUS be a decent mom and wife. Sorry, family. You will have to pick-do you want Mom to be smart and successful, or a decent mother and wife? You can't have your cake and eat it, too. Because I'm a little busy trying to cram this entire Biology textbook into my head to pretend I'm Betty Crocker.
Since I exercise so much (oh, this is rich!), there are periods of the semester when I'm happily, gently floating by, learning a few things, forgetting others. During these times, I hear classical music softly playing (where is that coming from?!) and I think, “Maybe I'll go back and get my Master's when I graduate!” I start wondering why other people complain so much about deadlines and school in general. What are they so grumpy about?
There are other times in the semester, like now, when I can't keep up with all the essays, papers, exams, readings, and assignments due. It's usually during these periods that my daughter decides to rip pages out of my textbook, torture the cat, and sing Yo Gabba Gabba songs loudly. Times like these, I hear thrash metal continuously playing in the background of my mind and I wonder if I will even live to see the Midterm exam, much less do well on it.
With all that being said, I can't complain too much. I somehow manage to pull off good grades in my classes, year after year. Maybe my professors feel sorry for me because I exercise so much, or maybe I just work well under pressure, and my constant exercising isn't that dangerous, after all. Either way, Midterm Season, however awful and unfair, does remind me that the semester is halfway over. And that, my friends, is a glass half-full.