“What is that ungodly smell?”
I can always tell when finals week hits this campus: the odor of doom and futility gets a little more pungent, the faces get more harried, and it is impossible to navigate one’s way through the library as it is swarmed with knuckle-gnawing freshman. However, from the glorious vantage point of one who does not have to suffer through exams, papers, and finals projects, I’ve discovered that the nom de usage of this time of the term I and other used as students (“Hell Week”) isn’t really appropriate. If we were to be accurate, I think it would be Freak Week.
Cruel perhaps, but still apt. For example, Hennessy and I were walking down a corridor yesterday on an assignment, when we came suddenly upon a man carrying a pot of rice down the hallway. No explanation, just clutching it and looking worried. The theatre and dance people are scrambling around with drag queen worthy layers of makeup on their faces and their arms full of costumes (when they aren’t actually wearing them). Also, basic hygiene has become optional for many: I have seen (and smelled) a number of the unwashed masses as they scramble past and sleep in hallways.
This comes from nothing resembling a high horse. My alarm clock broke the day of my first final of freshman year, luckily I woke up anyway and made record time sprinting from my dorm to my test. Then once I misread a French exam schedule and showed up on the wrong day. And of course I had the computer crash right in the middle of a stellar ten page paper on medieval philosophy. I also had my share of forgone showers and undone makeup (and temporary eating disorders stemming from actually forgetting to eat for days on end, and the inability to let go of my pens following an exam from severe cramp, and…)
All in all, Hell Week/Freak Week/Whatever You Want To Call It looks much better from the outside!