I’ve seen the symptoms. The virus starts by striking its victim with a sensation of restlessness, ambitiousness and discontentment. The feeling begins in the heart, where the plague multiplies and then circulates to the rest of the body.
Next, the virus travels up the spinal column to the brain. Once it reaches it, the virus settles in, making its home between the cerebrum and the cerebellum. From there, the virus begins to fester, altering the thought processes of the victim as they succumb to its power.
One of the main symptoms is tiredness. Tiredness of being tested to the limit, of writing papers until the fingers threaten to drop off and reading until the eyes long to detach from their sockets.
Doctors and professors at institutions of higher learning created a treatment for the virus. They called it “summer.” However, it’s a temporary solution that leaves the patient more susceptible to the virus.
One of the advanced stage symptoms of senioritis is spending an exorbitant amount of time searching for future jobs online. A second is executing pranks on fellow students, such as covering someone’s room in tinfoil or painting the nails of slumbering men After all, if you are leaving school in a few weeks there won’t be an opportunity for them to retaliate! Or will there?
If you are suffering from senioritis, you may be asking what authorizes me, a junior, to talk to you about forces of which I should know nothing.
First, as I said earlier, I’ve seen the symptoms first hand and heard the stories. One of my closest friends has been experiencing chronic, late stage symptoms. They include spurning the school cafeteria by driving to a local BBQ restaurant to eat, a reluctance to go to class and a desire to move on with his life.
Secondly, I’m concerned about my personal health entering my last year of college. Although I experience typical symptoms of weariness and a desire to be done with homework, I, like Frodo, am still in love with the Shire. I still enjoy learning from books, going to lecture and walking the peaceful paths of The Master’s College. A day may come when I carry my metaphoric ring, into the wild in search of my mountain of doom, but it is not this day.
Yet, a foreboding broods in my soul that the disease is already coursing through my veins, threatening to manifest itself when I am weakest.
After careful analysis, I’ve seen that senioritis is but the chronic stage of sloth that threatens the first three years of college life. It takes the form of a monster, which threatens to engulf his existence in sleep, hanging out with friends, video games and Netflix.
If you are suffering from senioritis, or are a student with the early symptoms, I challenge you to enjoy the simple and memorable moments of college—today. You will never have another opportunity to spend so much time with so many friends, learn so many things at once and have so few responsibilities. Be patient. Finish well. Ask God for help. Enjoy your last days in college— you won’t get them back.
After countless hours of research, doctors have discovered the only one known cure for senioritis—the termination of your life as a college student.
For those whose time has come–when you walk the plank—I mean stage, I will clap for you. You’ve come a long way, and I’m glad we can all watch your senioritis be cured by that square thing they give you.
Now let the college nostalgia begin.
By Jonathan Wais