Never give a college kid a day off. It’s a bad idea. I don’t care if meteors are crashing from the heavens down into lecture halls, classes should not be cancelled. And this isn’t my inner nerd talking, complaining about the bogosity of eliminating a day of class because of an inch or two of snow. The is my inner practician. (For the record, Microsoft tells me that “practician” isn’t a word. I disagree. Let’s continue.)
Because you know full well as I do that when you give a college kid an extra day off, the kid has one of two mentalities. First, it’s an excuse to not to anything for a day. You sleep in, you lounge around in your pajamas, you watch TV or Netflix, you fester in your own disgusting filth. You know, living the dream. The second mentality is a little more positive, but a pipe dream at that. I can guarantee you that about half of the college students you know who are exiled inside their apartments or dorms, cuddled up inside a cozy purple blanket debating whether or not to make the twelve inch trek to their desks resolved that this would be a day of productivity. (This would be a good place to point out for all of our readers in regular places, the entire Southeast is snowed out today.) So we set our alarms a little later than normal. Let ourselves refresh an hour or two of extra sleep, and then said “Let’s do this.”
No one has done shit.
As I type this it is 1:28 p.m. Counting everything I’ve done since midnight, today I have watched two hours worth of Netflix documentaries, written an article for work, slept for nine hours and watched over an hour worth of YouTube videos chronicling the inductions of various musical icons into the Kennedy Center. I’ve also spent time on the Twitter, the Facebook and the StoriesHouse, checking to see if anyone cares who I am. They don’t. Which isn’t to say everyone is like me. I assume most people are wearing shirts and socks right now, not just lounging around in their pajama bottoms and contemplating how cold it would be to sit on the deck right now. But aside from the wardrobe, I think it’s safe to assume that most people aren’t be productive right now. In fact, they are probably being less productive than they would have been if school was in session.
How so, you ask yourself? How can you make such a rash judgment about the culture of people without having left your bedroom today? I can answer that in one simple statistic. You are currently reading this post. There is no way that was what you planned on doing today. Boom. Roasted. But yeah, you aren’t being productive. You’re being snowductive. (That isn’t a word. I can guarantee that.) You’re using snow as an excuse to procrastinate. Don’t worry. It’s natural. We all are doing it. But I know you’re feeling guilty about your snowductivity. You aspired this morning to catch up on reading or homework or assignments on which you had been behind. But now you look at the clock and all you’ve done today is stare at the ceiling and text and gorge yourself on the pounds upon pounds of just-in-case food you procured from the market a few days ago in anticipation of the inevitable Snowpocalypse.
So here’s the point. You aren’t alone. Snowductivity is a real thing. It’s a scientific fact. It’s a law of nature. It’s practically the 11th Commandment. You can’t avoid it. Tomorrow you’ll wake up, rush to your window, peer outside through the glass and see that the streets are once again black and the trees are once again green. You’ll rub your eyes, hit the top of your head a few times to make sure you’re awake. You’ll look at your phone, or your wall thermometer if you’re a weirdo, and see that the mercury has risen above that fateful 32 degrees Fahrenheit. You’ll see your backpack, collecting dust from the hours of neglect, rotting in a heap next to your dirty laundry and you’ll say those two little words that every college student says in this situation.