December 3
I arrive at the Law Library at 11:00 a.m. after indulging in the snooze button a mere 4 times. After realizing that from now until doomsday (my last exam on Dec. 19), this library is exclusively open to law students, I turn around and drag myself to Schulich. I take the elevator to floor 6, and slowly search every room in the building until I’m back on the first floor. No seats available. As I lurk, I feel the eyes of my peers on me. It’s as if I can hear them snickering, Do better. Arriving at 11:12 a.m.? Who do you think you are? Don’t you have work to do?
December 7
One could say I’m in the swing of things. At the library by 9:00 a.m. Lunch at 1:00 p.m. Dinner at 6:00 p.m. Heading home at 10:00 p.m. I pretend the routine is good for me. I’m starting to lose track of when I last went anywhere that wasn’t my apartment or the library. At 4:00 p.m., I bundle up, preparing to face the Montreal tundra, since one professor requested our term paper be submitted in person. On my way out, I stop at the printer, a critical step for delivering a physical paper. I stand in the hallway tapping my student ID for about 20 seconds before realizing I’m tapping the water fountain, and that the printer is down the hall.
December 12
My mid-library Instagram scroll reminds me of the friends I haven’t seen since before the storm. My first-year roommate is already in Tokyo. Another friend posts a picture of her dog. My calendar reminds me I still have seven days until my personal freedom. In a brief outburst of emotion, I delete Instagram and stand up. My neighbour looks startled. Did I slam my laptop shut? Have my emotional regulation skills also gone to Japan?
December 16
I take a study break at 2:00 p.m., and walk the halls with a friend, debating where the McConnell Engineering Building ends and where Schulich starts. We head to Dispatch in hopes of a sweet treat magical enough to revitalize our hopes and dreams, but they are sold out.
December 18
Tonight, I fell victim to an Uber Eats “Buy One Get One” deal. My fridge is empty, my roommates are gone, and with one exam remaining, I deserve a hot meal. It arrives cold and late, and, after briefly locking myself out of the building, I arrive at the McConnell Engineering Cafeteria. For the first time, it’s completely empty. My only company is the baby mouse who runs in and out of a hole in the wall. I consider joining the mouse, crawling into a dark warm corner to slip into a confused slumber.
December 27
A week into break, I have yet to catch up on sleep due to the number of activities a much more ambitious and optimistic version of myself had organized. I can’t believe I’m already halfway through my respite, but I pity my mouse-y friend, who I imagine to be lonely without me.
January 4
I’ve been back in Montreal for an hour, waiting to deboard my plane that circles the tarmac, hunting for a gate like a shark after a seal. 30 minutes later, I’m greeted by a stagnant Uber line and a gust of wind so cold that I forget I ever left this sly city. I open Minerva with unjust casualty and see that I am still missing all five grades.
January 8
I am sitting in Leacock 219 unable to do anything except listen to the hum of construction. I try to identify the source: Is it from above or below? Inside Leacock or outside? Inside my mind? Can you guys hear this too?
