By Morgan Hixson
September 6, 2018
In hindsight, maybe I should have written that will after all.
That was the surprisingly rational thought my head came up with last week as my alarm did that annoying thing it typically does, which is going off at the highest decibel level ever recorded two seconds after I have finally fallen asleep. Upon examination, it usually tries lying to me by claiming that in fact it has been seven hours, and occasionally, when it’s feeling especially audacious, it is so bold as to tell me my time in Slumberland exceeded EIGHT hours. Eight hours of sleep would have to be the world record for any college student ever, let alone a freshman with less than three weeks of experience under his belt. As if making me question my will to live by waking me up wasn’t evil enough, my alarm will occasionally pull an even more dastardly trick… not waking me up. I believe 20 years have been taken off my life since my first day at SBU, and 19 of those were caused by awakening to sheer panic because OT History starts in three seconds and I’m still snuggled under my sheets. When this happens, after returning to my dorm room I confront The-Most-Evil-of-All-the-Necessary-Evils-in-Life about its behavior, but it pretends that it did actually go off and I simply shut it down without waking up, which I of course know better than to believe. All of this is to say that an alarm clock is one of the most effective devices for making a new collegian question commitment to life.
Unfortunately, there are numerous additional mechanisms which also accomplish this task quite well. I quickly discovered weather as being one of the guilty party. When getting ready in the morning, should I wear a hoodie in case of rain? What about summer attire in the event the alleged storm never materializes? I have decided the solution is to ask myself each morning if I would rather be stuck in gym clothes during a flood of Biblical proportions or caught wearing extra layers of clothing when at any moment the people around you may spontaneously combust. I usually pick the former. What is it with Midwestern weather? I am not an expert but it seems to me that when the air is thick enough to feel like a solid wall in most places, it is considered an excessive amount of humidity. And another thing: it is not normal for people to mistake their cars for large ovens, yet that is what I find myself doing each time I sit behind the wheel. I could go on, but I digress.
There is one more death-tempting gripe I feel the need to address, and that is how frequently I am disturbed by seeing high schoolers on campus, particularly in Mellers Dining Hall. The whole reason I enrolled in higher education was so I didn’t have to stand behind toddlers in the lunch line. Somebody should tell those weirdos they’re in the wrong place. The daycare is across the street. It just gets to be too much when this egregious offense is piled on top of others the likes of alarm clocks and Mother Nature.
However, right when things seem bleakest, I am reminded of the life-giving parts of SBU. When you combine heavenly blessings like free pizza and ice cream, dope chapel times, and great friendships, the scales somehow always manage to tip ever so slightly in favor of the good things. Now if pizza is ever removed then that’s another story, but I feel confident SBU will never fall prey to a demonic attack of such severity. I think I’ll stick it out here a while longer, though I’m setting a reminder on my phone to write a will this weekend, just in case.
The opinions expressed are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Infuse Student Media or Southwest Baptist University.
Commentaires