Fifth Week, while the benchmark for many students in dopamine shortages and anxiety surpluses, has proved to have its merits. Yes, each term, midterms reliably herald soaring levels of stress. Despite keeping this tradition, this week has managed to surprise us with a new method. Utilizing the conventional tools of long essays with short deadlines, tests garnished with long-answer questions and sandwiched between pop quizzes and sleep-deprived discussion leaders begging for a scrap of participation from their peers, there was also a surprising turn of events. Reporting live from the scene, Bald Spot informant Recky Beinhold disclosed that stress levels finally reached projected intensity based on last year’s trajectory with a striking surge last Tuesday. Rising by a factor of three, stress levels are now at a shocking 52. We turn to Goodhue to uncover the root of these developments.
Jan. 9, a seemingly innocent Monday. But this Monday turned tragic at 8:00 p.m. at the frigid Lyman Lakes. In an attempt to harness their inner bear—of the polar variety—half a dozen courageous students dove into the murky abyss. Two seconds later, they burst through to the surface like popcorn seeds hitting hot oil. And just like popped kernels, the students were transformed by the extreme temperature. These students went from bright-eyed and bushy-tailed idiots with the whole world ahead for them to fuck around and find out to ice. That’s right, the nigh-freezing waters shocked their bodies in such a way that they were instantaneously frozen. All the way through. Picture the final moments of Princess Anna’s fake-out death scene in Frozen. They bobbed up, swirling in the inky-black waters like giant, human-sized ice cubes in a cursed—yet refreshing—beverage. The moon shone through, illuminating frozen forms cocooned within their icy coffins.
Unlike Frozen, viewers were not given the instant gratification of watching love defrost these iced souls. The lifeguard on duty, a lanky beginner Swimming student, did their best to rise to the occasion. Having just passed their swimming midterm—ironically a written test—Maxter Beyer threw the life preserver with a steady hand and a confident stance, like an aquatic Indiana Jones. Security quickly reached the scene and gathered the collection of ice cubes in the warmest place on campus: my room. With the heater cranked up to 11, patience was the last ingredient for our rescue mission.
It is with great happiness that I report that the last chunks of ice have met their match in the sweltering conditions, and the delirious divers have made a full recovery. My excitement is a result of their health,, and is only slightly outweighed by my relief concerning a lack of dripping ice piles welcoming me after class each day. With their consciousness regained, students were finally reunited with loved ones—and an abundance of missed assignments. Upon opening their inbox, stress levels spiked, once again reaching the typical campus state of extreme distress. Life goes on.
