It's that time again. That point in the semester where it seems as if your brain is juggling 1,000 things at once. That point where for the last week, you've probably been binge eating on greasy takeout and pumping caffeine into your bloodstream.

If you're like me, then you've probably already reached the point where sleep has become like an anesthetic creeping up on your reality in low dosages and low quality. Even when you've succumbed to the hypnosis, you wake up still burdened by the agony of your mental injury — it's finals week.

During the semester, a typical student spends the first couple of weeks trying to figure out how to balance their class schedule with their work load and other responsibilities. Afterward, besides for a couple of freak-out moments every once in a while, it seems that a momentum is picked up after we come to terms with our four-month regimen. But once finals week hits, all of that is tossed out the window as chaos ensues upon our lives.

Currently, as my brain is scattered from my disheveled workload, the question comes to mind of whether or not professors should be given a limit to the amount of work they give out during finals?

As time winds down, closer to the designated day deciding your semester's fate, doesn't it seem like the professors stack a pile of work and wait until the last week to hand it out? With a job, internship or other priorities, such as bills, already indented into the stress cavity of our brains, "ain't nobody got time for that!"

I mean, why assign a "final" assignment and have a final exam due on the same day when one or the other can represent a final alone?

As students, we can demonstrate the objectives we've learned sufficiently if we had just one task such as a final essay, exam, or discussion. But once we are forced to demonstrate the same purpose in about 10 different ways for four classes, that's when cramming becomes our only tactic for an A. If you don't know what that feels like, imagine stuffing a dozen doughnuts into your mouth only to spit out its soggy contents moments later because there's no more capacity left.

That's what we do to our brains.

Sounds like a waste of doughnuts and torture, right?

Now, I can accept that procrastination is an epidemic that becomes worse only as the semester progresses. I can admit that I might have waited until 10 p.m. to start on a five-page research paper due at 11:59 p.m., but that's not the point of this article.

If we had one thing to focus on at a time, then more students would receive A's and less professors would be disappointed by their failure rate; it becomes a win-win situation for everyone.

Maybe our professors can hide copies of our finals inside those expensive books they instruct us to buy, but never really use because students wanting to adequately prepare themselves for success shouldn't count as cheating. Or, maybe finals can be stretched out during the last two weeks of the semester that way everything won't seem to be happening all at once.

Either way, if I was in charge, my solution would be to forgo the papers and exams and throw an end-of-the-semester happy-you've-made-it-alive celebration.

But, until then, I hope you're still mentally stable, while reading this, and as that pale-faced lady said in the Hunger Games movie: "May the odds be ever in your favor."


Shanae Hardy is a Contributing Writer for the Central Florida Future.

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