We’re almost there! The light at the end of the tunnel is shining brightly and becoming significantly larger by the minute. The school year is coming to an end.

It’s not quite over yet however, and some seem to forget that. We have an entire month left to either make or break our averages and believe me, that is enough time to do either.

I found myself glancing at the syllabi for my classes last week because I was so excited that May was right around the corner.

I noticed that even though the weather may start to get warmer and give off the summer vibe, there is still much to do before we’re cut loose.

The majority of the points in my classes are going to be earned, or lost, in this last month of school. I could easily be bitter with my teachers for torturing me with assignments that could have been due months ago, but in a way I thank them.

It is so easy for me to fall into the swing of summer and I always find myself letting school slide in the last month or so of classes.

Being born in July, I like to blame it on the fact that I’m just a summer baby and it’s in my nature. How can I go against my nature like that?

Well that’s not a legitimate excuse that my instructors are willing to take. This semester more than ever they seem determined to keep me cramming my brain full until the remaining seconds of class.
It’s as if the higher-powers-that-be notified my instructors at the beginning of the semester; “See that blonde in the back with that constant ‘I know something you don’t know’ look? Yeah, make sure you slam her with work in the last few weeks of school.”

I’m also being called on to participate more towards the end of the semester. I’m usually one to hang out and take notes during class, but the instructors weren’t having that either. I tend to get called on for things that don’t really have to do with the material in class.

For instance, in my psychology class we had recently been discussing sleep patterns. When it came time to talk about how much sleep different animals needed, cow-tipping was introduced to the class by my instructor.

When asked who in class knew what cow-tipping was, everyone was silent except for a burst of laughter from the left rear corner of the room.

Coincidentally, that is where I reside. I tried to hold the laughter in, but who are we kidding, that only made it louder and more obnoxious.

I was asked why I was laughing and after replying that I grew up in the Midwest, so I’m quite familiar with the shenanigans, my instructor asked me to explain to the class what in fact cow-tipping was.

Keep in mind that I wasn’t asked to enlighten the class on personality disorders or how to properly diagnose a patient, but how to tip a defenseless animal.

Judging by the confused faces surrounding me, I gathered that no one had seen the Chris Farley masterpiece “Tommy Boy.”

“Ya find yourself an open field late at night with cows that are asleep and push them, and they fall,” I replied still laughing.

I found it more humorous than most, but at least I was able to give some insight into the much overlooked extracurricular activity.

I have no problem being the joke in class. It’s just that now the joke is on me because I’ve seemed to slip-and-fall face first into crunch time.

A piece of advice from one procrastinator to another, keep your game faces on until the buzzer goes off or you might find yourself handing out water and towels to the ones doing all the work on the court.