Bethany Hargrove
The Broadside
Spring term is the most difficult term. It’s not because one is at the end of a sequence of classes, nor because one took to many credits. It’s just Central Oregon.
The spring sunshine taunts you through the windows of your classroom or workplace, and the warmth lures you out of the study cubbies in the library, making you forget about your impending finals, if only for a moment.
Remaining in class becomes triply difficult when the sun is shining and the CO breezes are finally warm. My earthy roots call me outdoors with a guitar or ukulele, enticing me to come enjoy the sun and breezes.
Such distractions make it very easy to blow off homework and write lame odes to random stuff like bugs.
I blame this, the weather, for my nearly habitual drop in GPA every spring quarter. It’s not that I don’t care about my grades deep down inside, it’s just that the spring weather is so extremely distracting.
Spring quarter is the most difficult term because summer is imminent, and the counting down, even if subconscious, makes the term drag.
General apathy seems to set in toward week 5 of spring term. Attendance drops, people seem to constantly be turning in late homework, and I can scarcely motivate myself to write even the measliest essay.
Fall quarter is hard to get into, but after the first two weeks one is back into the rhythm of school, and fall just zips by. Likewise does winter quarter, unless you’re tempted into the outdoors by bitter, dry cold and grayness.
Spring quarter finds me constantly tempted to skip class and go play in the park, or dismiss homework and blow bubbles in the Wal-mart parking lot.
Humans are actually cold-blooded—the instant it’s warm, we come alive physically, but not so much mentally.
All I want to do under the influence of spring is lie in the grass and write odes to frogs.
You may contact Bethany Hargrove at [email protected]