The Weekend Before Group 4 Due Date: A Daily Breakdown (no, really.)
Saturday: spend all afternoon at the house of one of my male classmates, in my, uh, second-choice group that I switched into after some drama with my previous group. Hang out with him and 3 other guys in the group (mucho testosterone). Watch them play guitar hero. Create an entire PowerPoint presentation. Edit the report. Stress. Share a Tucker Max story; hate myself in the morning. Deal with ridiculous amounts of innuendo. Try to make MS Paint do what I want. Fail. Delete all files stored on my flash drive; pray that the computer is still alive when I get home. Stay much later than planned. Drive home with group members 1 and 2. Endure half-hour athletic conversation between 1, 2, and my brother.
Sunday: Set up for the IB party. Begin IB party. Chill with most of my friends and some senior guys. Discover that last year’s bathing suits don’t fit very well. Swim involuntarily in freezing water. Play volleyball/badminton. Take ridiculous photos. End up in my bedroom playing catch with a stuffed animal. Go back to group 4 house. Stress. A lot. Try to explain project to group members 3 and 4. Finish PowerPoint. Fight over DJ-ing rights. Deal with more innuendo. Avoid watching The Descent. Get home too late. Remember Psych paper due Monday morning. Do Psych paper.
Monday: Wake up. Do homework that was neglected due to Group 4. Print report. Carry report, suit, Psych paper, and 21 lbs of books back to school. Hand in psych paper. Stress. Barely make it through day zombie-style. Change into suit after getting sub to let me out of math class 20 minutes early. Sit in the lecture hall until 7pm watching other people’s presentations. Eat Girl Scout cookies. Stress. Pass notes. Give presentation. Break teacher’s laptop. Go home. Eat dinner. Finish Psych paper that my teacher gave me an extra day to work on. Consider dropping IB and changing career ambition to cashier. Fall into a deep stress-induced coma.
Thursday: Remember that the calf liver from Group 4 is still in the fridge. Try unsuccessfully to bribe brother into throwing it out for me. Decide that the meat scissors entombed along with the liver in the double-Ziploc bags will just have to be sacrificed for the cause. Wonder what “the cause” is. Fall back into stress-induced coma.
Saturday: spend all afternoon at the house of one of my male classmates, in my, uh, second-choice group that I switched into after some drama with my previous group. Hang out with him and 3 other guys in the group (mucho testosterone). Watch them play guitar hero. Create an entire PowerPoint presentation. Edit the report. Stress. Share a Tucker Max story; hate myself in the morning. Deal with ridiculous amounts of innuendo. Try to make MS Paint do what I want. Fail. Delete all files stored on my flash drive; pray that the computer is still alive when I get home. Stay much later than planned. Drive home with group members 1 and 2. Endure half-hour athletic conversation between 1, 2, and my brother.
Sunday: Set up for the IB party. Begin IB party. Chill with most of my friends and some senior guys. Discover that last year’s bathing suits don’t fit very well. Swim involuntarily in freezing water. Play volleyball/badminton. Take ridiculous photos. End up in my bedroom playing catch with a stuffed animal. Go back to group 4 house. Stress. A lot. Try to explain project to group members 3 and 4. Finish PowerPoint. Fight over DJ-ing rights. Deal with more innuendo. Avoid watching The Descent. Get home too late. Remember Psych paper due Monday morning. Do Psych paper.
Monday: Wake up. Do homework that was neglected due to Group 4. Print report. Carry report, suit, Psych paper, and 21 lbs of books back to school. Hand in psych paper. Stress. Barely make it through day zombie-style. Change into suit after getting sub to let me out of math class 20 minutes early. Sit in the lecture hall until 7pm watching other people’s presentations. Eat Girl Scout cookies. Stress. Pass notes. Give presentation. Break teacher’s laptop. Go home. Eat dinner. Finish Psych paper that my teacher gave me an extra day to work on. Consider dropping IB and changing career ambition to cashier. Fall into a deep stress-induced coma.
Thursday: Remember that the calf liver from Group 4 is still in the fridge. Try unsuccessfully to bribe brother into throwing it out for me. Decide that the meat scissors entombed along with the liver in the double-Ziploc bags will just have to be sacrificed for the cause. Wonder what “the cause” is. Fall back into stress-induced coma.
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