I know what you’re thinking. I should stop fooling around, tell my editor to be fruitful and multiply with himself, and write my essay for class already! The one about spiritualism and stoicism, or something like that. Let me assure you that the assignment is not due until Tuesday, so I’ll be spending the better part of Monday night trying to extend sentences and reach the minimum word count.

But you’re absolutely right that writing an entire essay all about -isms is not the simplest task. Classes seem to get harder and harder with every passing year. Freshman year was about being able to find the intersection of two lines on a graph. Sophomore year had more complicated equations that involved both numbers and letters, and now I’m working on long-winded essays about topics I’ve never heard of, possibly because they were only discussed in lecture, or section, or the readings, or some combination of the three. By next year I’ll probably need to cure some obscure disease to meet my science requirement.

And things are just looking harder from here on out. Just wait until we have to earn our own livings, out in the wider world where we aren’t always provided with free Toastie-O cereal at the convenient hours of 9:15 to 10:45 p.m. So before we have to worry about real problems, like what the little blinking light on the dashboard means or how to figure out the neighbor’s Wi-Fi password, we should all take a moment, an afternoon, or maybe all of reading period to slow down and watch reruns of “Archer.” Or smell the roses, but let’s try not to be too ridiculously trite. As the great Ferris Bueller once mused, “Pardon my French, but Cameron is so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you’d have a diamond.” Don’t be Cameron, unless you want a diamond.

Take it with a grain of salt, though, because this was a guy who once licked his palms to play hooky in high school. I don’t know about you, but my parents would have told me to wash my hands instead.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be busy trying to turn 21, one pint at a time.

Jacob R. Drucker ‘15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an economics concentrator in Mather House.