The 7 Stages of Winter Thaw

By Jack Archer

1. Threshold: 5:59 PM. Friday night. The Harkness warrior is wrapping up his final point after enjoying another productive class of talking to himself. The teacher hardly looks down to draw another line on their unbalanced Harkness chart. Books lay unannotated. All eyes are on the clock as it ticks down to sweet release.
2. Initiation: 6:00 PM. Everyone simultaneously yells “Have a nice weekend!” and bolts. The Harkness warrior keeps on talking. His Friday night is already off to a great start. Yours is just beginning. You sprint onto the quad, brilliant plans for the night and the weekend ahead racing through your head. You’re going to do so much nothing. You’re gonna party so hard you’ll forget that your midterms are so low they can be rounded down to zero. You’ll sleep for days. You’ll get so far ahead the next time you do homework will be Senior spring.
3. Lapsation: It is 4 AM when you look up from your laptop and wonder how long you’ve been binging for. As a matter of fact, how did you even get here? Last you remember you were in Dhall making big plans for the night. Everything else is a big blank. Oh well. At least you have three free days ahead of you.
4. Oblivion: Turns out your experience on Friday was not the result of a one night stand as you hoped but the beginning of a trend. The weekend passes in a blur. You spend half of it unconscious. Because you’re getting loads of sleep, of course. Your will to move plunges, and you become one with your chair, one with your bed. Your watch time statistics claim there are more than 24 hours in a day, yet you feel no alarm. You feel nothing. You tried to do homework the other night but one subject took you five hours. Empty bags of junk food mysteriously appear in your hands. Is this inner peace you’ve found? True happiness? It just might be.
5. The Super Bowl: You had a good run, San Fran. Maybe try getting an even bigger lead next time around.
6. Deterioration: Monday night approaches like an invisible train. You lay strapped to the tracks, pinned down by a sleep schedule so ridiculous you think you may have jet lag. You try to change course, scrambling to finish homework you thought you did days ago, and squeezing in one last season of your favorite show. And another because it ends on a cliffhanger. You set your alarm at 3 AM and you swear you can hear the 8 AM bell ringing, beckoning you to your first class in three days.
7. Reinitiation: The Monday night train wreck is nothing compared to the brain-wrenching jerk you feel as you get out of bed on Tuesday morning. The sun blinds you. You’re not used to waking up when it’s light out. You’re not used to feeling tired, you don’t really know who you are, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t done the homework for your 8 AM yet. Classes are distant memories, like the Silly Bandz hobby you had in third grade. You certainly feel like a silly band — stretched, distorted, and you can’t really tell what you’re supposed to be. The Harkness warrior has lost his voice. The horror you feel when you gaze into the mirror is nothing compared to the look your coach gives you when they first see you after the break. Also, low homework week is over. You have three major assignments and a narrative draft due soon. Hopefully, you had a restful Winter Thaw. You’re going to need it.