{"id":11446,"date":"2015-12-02T06:20:45","date_gmt":"2015-12-02T14:20:45","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nexusnewspaper.com\/?p=11446"},"modified":"2015-11-30T12:22:30","modified_gmt":"2015-11-30T20:22:30","slug":"look-im-done","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nexusnewspaper.com\/newsite\/2015\/12\/02\/look-im-done\/","title":{"rendered":"Look<\/em>: I’m done"},"content":{"rendered":"

Two words have been careening like bullets off Camosun\u2019s unshakeable walls. I hear them and nod, a sort of bow and prayer. Empathy for the reality of the point, for I live it, too. These words can mean everything or they can mean nothing. They are: \u201cI\u2019m done.\u201d<\/p>\n

Done. At the time of this writing I am looking down the face of week 12, and at the time of the paper\u2019s printing it will be week 13. Maximum overload weeks. I am dragging my bag with much less energy than I ever thought possible: my body is weary and mind is exploding.<\/p>\n

I curse myself for desiring that magical A+. I curse myself even more for wanting to earn it with less than 1000 percent effort. I feel as if my 110-percent effort simply isn\u2019t cutting the grade. Why is it that I drive myself so crazy and I act like a three-year-old child when I learn that the project just over the horizon suddenly has a new twist and I am expected to simply go with the flow?<\/p>\n

Tantrums.<\/p>\n

\"Look,<\/a>
Look<\/em>, a column looking at life as a student, appears in every issue of Nexus<\/em>.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Oh, yes. I am a 43-year-old student and I want to fling myself to the tiled floor and weep, scream, and cry, because, damn it, this all feels like too much. Why<\/i> is there a new twist?<\/p>\n

(Reading this now, of course, I want to smile and laugh at myself for the pure ridiculousness of it all!)<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not the only one who is done. I watch as the entirety of the student body huddles in the library, the cafeteria, or vacant spots studying together, working together. Heads bow together to make urgent deadlines.<\/p>\n

A running-shoe ad once implored me to \u201ctry: the responsibility is yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

I get it. I wear the runners, I work my hardest, and I try.<\/p>\n

I feel that, as the end of the term approaches, I am overloaded, overworked, and near hysterics. It is some consolation that I am not the only one. Students everywhere groan in mutual pain: I\u2019m done, I\u2019m done.<\/p>\n

Sacred two words.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Two words have been careening like bullets off Camosun\u2019s unshakeable walls. I hear them and nod, a sort of bow and prayer. Empathy for the reality of the point, for I live it, too. These words can mean everything or they can mean nothing. They are: \u201cI\u2019m done.\u201d Done. At the time of this writing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":11057,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,156],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11446","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-columns","category-december-2-2015"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t