We’re fast approaching the end of the year. I know, it snuck up on me too, similar to a ninja wearing padded shoes. It is at this point in the semester that teachers often realize they haven’t covered everything and begin to panic, handing out assignments left and right (and, indeed, in other directions as well) in a vain hope that they can recover, like the person on the edge of the cliff flailing his arms wildly in a worthless attempt to save his life. This is the chief reason that the once-sacred dead week has informally become known as Death Week, a bloody time when everything is due and nothing is not. It is especially bad in the spring since most people are afflicted with varying degrees of senioritis. I know at least one individual who has been suffering the debilitating effects of the disease all year long, turning him into the wasted shell of a once-productive human being.

Not that I can complain, really. CS teachers seem to be largely immune to this end-semester panic syndrome. Some people, people that I live with, have had regular loads of homework that are far in excess of any imagery my poor synapses are capable of generating. For example, my roommate just put in forty hours in the last seventy-two on a project, most of it in three or four sittings. I… I had thought that maybe he died or something, I hadn’t seen him for days… but then he staggered in, hands dripping blood from munging circuits.

Some of you (one of you? no? nobody?) have probably been wondering about my lack of updatey-ness… it’s cool, I’m not dead. I just don’t have anything interesting to talk about, which is surely not a departure form the norm. But I’m going to go take a quiz now, and then turn in my stats homework, and come back, and then go to a picnic. I know, who does that anymore? My thought was that the required age for such an activity was sixty, but apparently, and this is news to me too, anyone can partake of things like this. I’ll let you know how it goes.

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