A few days ago, I was having lunch in Collis with my friend Natalie. Usually our conversations ramble on at a breakneck pace, but this particular lunch date seemed sluggish. From the look of her bleary eyes, her entire face was ready to splash down into her bowl of Spicy Vegan Low-Fat Ginger Curry Taboule Surprise at any moment.
"Tired, Nat?"
"Ha. Hahaha. I don't understand this. I had eight hours of sleep."
"Maybe it's that thing that's going around campus."
"What thing?" she asks.
"You know, the thing. The sore-throat-runny-nose-I-want-to-curl-up-and-sleep-for-a-million-years thing everyone's been getting. I'll bet it's sucking the vitality right out of you."
"Yeah. That. I don't know if I have that, but all my friends do."
Actually, while this conversation was taking place, I was getting over the thing myself.
"I had it last week," I said empathetically.
"Mold. It can all be explained by mold. It's got to be the mold on the leaves that are starting to fall all over the place."
"Hmm ... I'm not so sure ... "
"Okay then, it's mono. Maybe everyone is getting mono. I need to get a blood test. I can't believe how tired I feel." Sniff. "Darn. Why am I sick?"
You can blame the phenomenon on several things -- change of season, damp weather, or the initial burnout that everyone gets at the term's start -- but the fact remains that everyone's sneezing, wheezing and coughing already. Loudly. Loudly enough so that one can barely take notes in class.
Dartmouth students, much more so than students at other schools, take pride in health and invigorating activity. Case in point: go for a walk around campus at five in the afternoon on a weekday and count how many joggers pass you. (The tapes in their Walkmans will then proceed to run out within forty-five minutes, signaling the end of the jog, and then each jogger will return home to freshen up before morphing into the mobs that converge on Home Plate precisely at 6 p.m. to nab that last slice of veggie lasagna just before it's your turn in line.)
To the average Dartmouth student, being active and conscious of fitness and well-being comes somewhat naturally. Why, then, am I persistently being pestered for a Kleenex? Am I the only one that perceives some irony here?
Perhaps the answer lies in defining a system of balances. Most students here try desperately (and usually successfully) to arrange several diverse activities in a pattern as one might piece together a brilliantly-colored patchwork quilt. Unfortunately, students often forget that such a quilt is probably best used for sleep!
In trying to balance interests, it sometimes eludes one that it is necessary to balance work and rest, as well. Therefore, the preachy part of my little essay here will tell you to schedule naps, to make time for sleep and to take vitamins. Don't sacrifice quiet time if possible -- the more rested you are, the better your health will be, and the better the quality your work will be, too. Know what your limitations are, and beware of catching the thing.
