By Abby Gray, ’18

You’re running a marathon with only ten miles left. Your throat is burning as you exhale puffs of air and watch them cloud in front of you. Your fingers are blue, your toes white, brown slush seeps into your shoes and an unsuppressable desire to dramatically fall down in the middle of the road and give up your efforts rises with every dreadful step. This is February. Spring break is relatively close, but not in view, not even around the bend. This is the ten mile stretch.

My alarm goes off, I snooze it. I become a human burrito inside my covers and bury my head under my pillow, pieces of hair strung in front of my face. I daydream of a lazy day watching “Shameless”, my new Netflix obsession, while eating countless bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. The alarm goes off again. I snooze it again. Back to being a burrito, back to warmth and quiet. Until some realization jolts me back awake and I sit up rapidly, static electricity making baby hairs fly straight up from my head. That’s right. I can’t binge watch Shameless all day. I have—aa… aaa… aaachoo—school. I have school.

I trudge my way to the bathroom to blow my nose and brush my teeth. “Makeup?” I ask myself. “No time,” I reply. “Just do some mascara so you don’t look like troll,” my inner self adds. I listen. As I return to my room, I see laying on my desk the prime picture of responsibility: a pre-planned outfit. “How prepared am I?” I proudly ask myself. But as I approach the outfit, I realize something. Under the top I have chosen, there is the painful sight of denim. Seriously? Jeans. I picked out jeans. “Scratch that outfit,” my inner self persuades. “Go get leggings and sweater.”  My inner self always knows how to win me over.

So there I go to school, in leggings and a sweater for the fourth day in a row. I roll into orchestra sleep walking, the slush covered floors squeaking under my feet, probably spill some coffee on my shirt during second period, accidentally doze off to sleep at least once during the day, completely miss  everything to do with polynomial fuctions during a day dream and pass out for a long, much needed nap the second I get back home to my glorious bed. This is February.

If that doesn’t sound familiar: congratulations, you’re an A+ student. But I have to defend the dwindling motivation that comes with this dreaded month. Not every month can be great. It’s a universally accepted truth that life has its ups and downs, and as author of  “A Series of Unfortunate Events” Lemony Snicket said, “February is the shortest month of the year, so if you are having a miserable month, try to schedule it for February.”