Ke$sha tells us to make the most of the night, like we’re going to die young.
Normally, I’m D: long hair don’t care.
You can generally count on me to, as P!NK would say, “go dancing alone. I will laugh, I’ll get drunk, I’ll take somebody home!”
During finals, however, I buckle down. These next three weeks aren’t about fun or games, or Ke$sha or P!NK, or parties or ladies or cattle or foghorns in Starr reading room.
No, they’re about the library. For three weeks, I’ll look really stressed and ugly and pasty. In years past, I’ve been happy to put the work in at the end of the semester.
But not this time.
I’m going to be so incredibly angry if the Mayans were right and the world ends on December 21st and my last three weeks of life were spent drinking Coke Zero and studying for finals. If the world ends, knowledge of Early Modern England probably won’t matter. But then again, the Mayans loved Oliver Cromwell.
I’m getting pissed just thinking about it. Not only would I have wasted the last three weeks of my life, but I won’t even know if I did well on my exams.
That’s why I think we should postpone finals until after winter break. Instead, let’s make Ke$sha proud and get really weird.