Another finals season has arrived, and yet again, students are being forced to go to their writing classes to submit an assignment that is already completed. Despite the annoyance of having to stay on campus for a 30 second interaction with people you most likely do not want to see, and the fact that the work is already done, this requirement is still a thing.

There is no reason why I need to show my face to a professor for a few minutes so I can submit something I worked on for weeks, just “because”. My time could be spent doing something more productive, like preparing for a summer class I have, cleaning out my dorm, or doing something for self care. This time of the semester, we all want to go home, even the professors. No one wants to be here more than they have to. Having to come back to school for this is not only insanely annoying for people who commute, but just unnecessary because the semester is already over.

Also, this class is primarily for freshmen, which makes this meeting even more stressful than it has to be. Freshmen do not need more on their plate, and that is exactly what this meeting does. Being able to submit a final online instead of meeting in person is the most beautiful thing a professor could tell me as a freshmen. I have so much going on, as do other students, that I should not have to stress about this. The fact that students have this lingering meeting with their class when we have more important things to do this time of year, is absurd.

Orlando was a combination of all my favorite interests, LGBT folk, feminism, history, and my friends who were performing.

One part of the play that stuck out the most to me was towards the beginning, a woman had a ribbon tied around her neck, like the girl from “The Husband Stitch”. I thought that somehow the two works were connected, but nothing more came of the ribbon that was tied around her neck. I like to think that it had to do with how Orlando was trying to get with every woman he could, and how he, or she at the end, kept trying to find love, and that this was them untying the ribbon of those people.

During the intermission, I read the playbill and noticed that the play write, Virginia Woolf, committed suicide. She came from a progressive home, and clearly held progressive beliefs that are shown in her writing this piece. Of course I don’t know what the cause of her suicide was, however, I suspect that it had to do with her own ribbon. This play showed a woman’s world in the middle/end, in the sense that Orlando was able to control the men around her. I feel as if Woolf did not have this power like Orlando did, and that she longed for it. Perhaps her ribbon was untied when she left her progressive home and was degraded by a man.

I really enjoyed this play; It was fun to watch, but it also kept you thinking throughout.

9:oopm, bed.

I put my phone down

Screen side up

Just in case.

Drifting, dreaming,

Free.

Wait,

Did my screen light up?

Is that twitter?

No,

Facebook.

Is it a like? A follow?

Maybe Emma Watson responded to my tweet.

Or a Trump supporter arguing with me,

again.

Ooo I hope it is a Trump supporter.

What shall I say this time?

Maybe

a link to factcheck.org.

Or maybe

attack them personally…

No.

Personal attacks don’t get likes,

They don’t get praise.

You need to be witty,

You need to attack them in ways they

Didn’t see coming.

10pm.

Okay, I have an 8am,

Responding can wait.

No, it can’t.

I’m starting to

Itch.

What if they think my

Silence is

Submission?

No, I can’t.

I must

Respond.

I need to fucking

Sleep.

I’m going to just see it,

Then sleep.

I slide my thumb to the right.

The light of the screen

Puts me in a daze.

My hands won’t let me put

It down.

I can’t stop.

12am.

1am.

2am.

3am.

It doesn’t end.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton