Procrastination hurts us all

By Kaylee Kean

Call me a nerd, but one of the things I’ll miss most about Oakland is the Kresge Library. It’s one of my happy places here in the Rochester area.

When I’m stressed and have a lot of homework, that’s where I like to go. It’s open 24 hours, has multiple floors with a variety of cozy seating options, and has free Wi-Fi, computers and a café with some pretty nice hours for night owls and weekend workers such as myself.

It’s got an archive full of really awesome, interesting things and more books than I’ll be able to read in my lifetime. It’s got that beautiful, quiet, academic feel to it that I really just love to sit and soak in, and it’s there any time I want to escape and is always willing to help me work and learn. It’s comfortable and warm and peaceful.

Until the last two weeks, that is. That’s when the hordes of procrastinators and frantic catch-ups strike.

“Oh no, I have an exam next week that I’ve known about since the beginning of the semester but haven’t studied for! I need to pass it and can only do that by using what we’ve learned in class — better cram everything I should already know so I pass this class I’ve spent so much money on!”

“Oh man, this professor wants to test me just like every professor I’ve had but I haven’t been studying just like I never do! I should try that library thing out now so I don’t fail.”

There are always annoyances that spend their time at Kresge — no perky package comes without its pitfalls.

There’s that partially deaf Netflix addict who thinks we can’t hear sound through the walls of the first-floor study rooms (We can, and your show sucks).

There’s that standard white girl, who, like, can’t believe, like, why her boyfriend said that to her. She can’t even focus on her homework, because, like, that’s just so offensive.

There’s that older man in a tracksuit that can’t seem to sit still for more than a few minutes and frequently fast-walks around the second floor but never actually seems to go anywhere in particular.

There’s that other older man who’s always on the phone with his mother and explaining to her why her financial decisions are poor ones. When he’s not talking to good old mum, he’s sighing and swearing loudly enough that everyone knows he’s struggling but not so loudly that you can ask him to shut up.

There are always these people, but none of them compare to those who invade the library at the very end of the semester, and take over the space and resources that the real students have been using since the beginning.

This is a direct message to you students who don’t step foot into the library until testing time: you’re assholes.

You’re assholes for invading our nice, quiet space and taking the computers and seats and rooms we are accustomed to inhabiting. You’re assholes for slowing down our Wi-Fi and filling the air with noise and smells and the aura of those who think they can achieve true success and learning in a short amount of concentrated time. You’re assholes for abusing the power of the library, available to you all year long, in that small window of time just because you suddenly decided you want to pass your class.

You’re not spending money to dick around for 12 weeks and put your nose to the desk for the last two — or that’s my understanding, at least. You should be working those full 14 weeks. You should be getting your tuition’s worth for those full 14 weeks.

Complaining aside, I don’t really care what you do with your life. I don’t care how you spend your money or time — if you want to goof around, go for it, you young and carefree thing, you. Just don’t take it out on me and my happy place.

Oh well. I’ll just pout for these two weeks and enjoy the silence when the winter semester begins.

Good luck on your exams. You’ll need it.