Can we talk about midterms for a second?
Yeah, I know—they’re pretty balls.
If you were to guess the etymology of midterm—without knowing all the sleepless and over-caffeinated marvels it entails—I think you’d expect what I did: that a midterm was a test around the middle of the semester, not quite as hard as the final, but enough to get you to digest the material.
Little did I know that instead, I would find myself with two midterms, dividing that single class into three. I would be more than cool with that. But there is simply no logic as to when they fall. Faculties and departments are all over the place in terms of dates.
How can I be encouraged to explore and then expected to juggle conflicting midterm schedules that leave me a slave to a library cubicle throughout most of the fall?
So, to the profs of Concordia I say: C’mon, yo. Sure, it’s rather easy to rant and com- plain about midterms, but with all of my study areas so divergent and demanding— usually, at least; you need a bird course to bump your GPA somewhere—I just want to not have all of October and November be one giant, unwavering midterm season. That, practically, is my term.
Now, some of you may say, “Well, An- drew, you should just plan better.” And I would pretend you said nothing.
Hmm. I’ll stop talking to myself now. I think we took a little bit of a Clint East- wood-and-an-empty-chair route at the end there.
So let’s finish off strong: Hillary 2016! Get out and vote!
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