We’ve all been there. Winter is depressing as hell (Am I allowed to curse on here? Guess we’ll find out.), the workload is at an all-time high, grades are slipping, and that one professor refuses to elaborate further about why they gave you a zero on the project you poured your heart and soul into, yet they somehow expect you to know what’s wrong and fix it. Everything sucks and you regret coming here.
Then one fateful day in late March, as soon as it hits 75 degrees outside, it’s the exact opposite mentality. Who cares about all that stuff? Summer’s only six weeks away! It was just warm out! Time to spend all afternoon in the hammocks and playing frisbee and oh wait hold on oh no I missed four assignments and have two midterms tomorrow. But now everything’s tainted by that salt air, so all you can think about is how agonizingly close you are to a summer that continues to just drag its feet.
If that sounds like you, don’t worry, you’re in good company. The “Spring Squall,” as I sometimes like to call it, affects thousands of students annually, making it the second biggest threat of the season after the Georgia pollen. I’ve definitely fallen victim to it this year, certainly more than I ever did in high school. All I can think about lately is going home at the beginning of May and everything I want to do. As a freshman it’s been particularly exacerbated since I’ve never gotten out of school this early in the year before, and the idea of essentially having an entire extra month off is just too good to not think about. I can finally sing “There’s 104 days of summer vacation” in the Phineas and Ferb theme song and actually mean it! Meanwhile my mom’s texting me, and the only song she’s singing is “There’s 104 days of missing assignments!” (She’s not entirely wrong.)
We have three weeks left in the year as of me writing this. The latter week and a half is mostly finals, but until then, we’re in the make-or-break point of the spring semester. Fortunately, it’s at this point the Spring Squall tends to dissipate. As fake summer slowly melts into real summer, the dreary slog in the mud gives way for a sprint to the finish.