There is absolutely no easy way to begin a column that will essentially say "I really think it's a bad idea to use your free time to help starving children. Also, I kick puppies and I wrote in Sarah Palin for president."
I tried to make half a dozen jokes about how appearing on "Girls Gone Wild" can actually be construed as participating in an "Alternative Spring Break," and all of them fell flatter than I did yesterday morning when I tried to cut across the ice rink on Psi U's lawn.
Mission Impossible: write a column about being selfish, selfish, selfish and still be able to look people in the eye on Friday morning.
Faced with this mighty task, I enacted my usual emergency plan for these situations -- I descended from the stacks to get coffee. While scoring some key facetime on First Floor Berry, I asked everyone I met if I was a terrible person. They all said yes, so I ran down to Novack, ordered a triple espresso and asked the Novack guy if writing this column made me a terrible person. He also said yes, so I took my coffee -- and my shame -- and retreated back to the stacks, where I proceeded to continue to not write this column and also to freak out on caffeine. Then I crashed and fell asleep on top of my books.
When the compassionate freshman next to me woke me up because the gate to Novack was going to be dropped within the next few minutes, I came to a sudden and vital conclusion -- Dartmouth students who have just lived through finals are in no condition to perform community service over Spring Break. Most of us are recuperating, not starring in wet T-shirt contests in Cancun, and those lucky enough to be on a beach are probably comatose.
While we all may dream of becoming that mythical student who studies for finals ahead of time, wakes up delightfully rested and leaves campus excited to move onto her next project, the reality is that the 1902 room tends to be populated by un-showered, cracked-out people rather than these go-getters. I may be somewhat on the extreme end of things, but my usual finals study plan involves heavy procrastination during reading period, followed by several painful all-nighters.
After this high-stress last week of the term, I usually sleep for about a month. Rousing me from my coma to put a happy house-building hammer in my hand would be extremely hazardous for you, me and basically anyone within range. As much as I would like to be of assistance, I would instead probably be a huge insurance liability for any service group unlucky enough to be saddled with my "help."
If, of course, you are one of those students who survives finals relatively unscathed, by all means, build a house, clean up a park, raise money -- I salute you and I envy your abilities. If, however, like most of us, you're looking to sleep off your studying hangover, for everyone's sake, please stay in bed.
