Empty aluminum cans, once full of energy drinks and Mountain Dew, clutter rooms and lounges. Study parties quiz each other frantically in hopes of maximum retention. Learning and forgetting, learning and forgetting. Forgetting and learning, forgetting and learning. Study guides cover tables. Highlighters cover study guides. Studying for one class, then another and visa versa. Last minute corrections are made to last minute papers. Frustrated students make empty threats to empty printers. Bed times extend for hours, and some don’t even go to bed at all. Students in their bedrooms. Students in the lounge. Students in the coffee shop. Students in the classrooms and prayer rooms. Students that share one common goal, study until your eyes are too heavy to hold open.
For some reason, the last three hours of ones night life are filled with conversation containing information that is the farthest it could be from the contents of the study guide. Relationships, breakfast, plans for break, and plans for future pranks (just to name a few of many) clot minds, and motivation for study starts to slowly deplete. Some manage to make it to bed for a healthy few hours of sleep. Alarms are set and hearts regret past procrastination.
Morning arrives and breakfast is eaten as some even study while eating. Students carry themselves towards the classroom building in vague attempts of preparation. Tests are taken and crowds of students later congregate in miscellaneous meeting places and discuss how much easier or harder the test was to what was originally expected.
They compare answers and rejoice over the ones they got right, and declare vain utterances over the ones they did not. And even remember answers to questions they left blank, wishing they could go back and fill in the answer.
More tests are taken and yet again, more answer comparing meetings take place. Test result prophecies are declared, mumbled and grumbled. Some good. Some bad. Some ugly.
Test taking fiascoes are concluded with the packing of clothing, stowing away of suitcases and the ill-fated extended goodbye. Tears are shed in the girls lounge, as those who who have joined us only for the short time of the winter term, prepare for their departure. Hugs and cards and prayers and emails, phone numbers, and addresses are exchanged. Waves and blown kisses. Final hugs and loving wipes of tears of joy and sadness are among us. Cars are started. Seat belts are strapped. Goodbyes are no longer needed as vehicles drift away, taking pieces of us with them. Break begins.
Friday night included the first showing of The Magician’s Nephew, an entertaining play put on in the chapel.