Guess who’s got spring fever? And by that I mean, the increasingly warm weather is my latest excuse for my slovenly study habits. I sit in class each day and gaze with longing out the window, my nose pressed eagerly against the pane. You’d think I’d never seen a brilliant blue sky filled with puffy clouds, a green lawn stirred by a spring breeze or muddy barefoot people playing frisbee before. Spring is a magical time for flowers to bloom, birds to sing, and grassy lawns to accumulate empties and abandoned glasses and silverware. My heart is flooded with new thoughts and ideas, none of them for term papers. Even as I write this, my mind is elsewhere, turning cartwheels and gathering flowers as woodland creatures perch adoringly on my arms and frolic at my feet.
My attention span has never been particularly long to begin with-I find it difficult to sit through a two-hour movie unless I know I’m going to be rewarded with a food pellet-and it’s been shorter than ever lately. I don’t to read the flavor names above the frozen yogurts in the cafeteria anymore, I guesstimate. My roommate had to resort to hand puppets to tell me my parents called. If you can’t fit the time, day, place and nature of your event into one concise word, then I’m not going to read your poster.
I don’t know what to do, but I just can’t finish anyth

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