Feeling good again

I don't want to do work ever again. I have no aspirations, no goals and no desire to be productive anymore. I actually am looking to be anti-productive; I think my best course of action right now is to prevent others from doing work while also making it harder for myself to ever be able to accomplish anything again.

A criminal record seems like the obvious life-decision here, but I just don't have the time or energy for it. Napping doesn't involve enough people; besides, I haven't woken up before noon in a couple of weeks anyway. Ahhh yes, the life of a second semester senior.

So I finished my thesis. Done. Just like that. The finishing of a thesis is cool because unlike the end of a day's work or the beginning of the weekend, it actually allows you to pinpoint the exact moment when the ambition drains from your body. You look at your thesis, and you think "Wait, I could always go back and . . ." and there it goes. Your ambition. All of it. There are still residual effects, but they're quickly filtered out. The key is to hang out with other seniors who are also done and to participate in sports and activities that make you dumber. Sunlight is directly proportional to this effect as well. Soon, you too will be feeling the happy ignorant bliss of having such a simplistic mind. I feel like a puppy. If you throw a ball, I will run and fetch it. I think a ball of yarn might even keep me happy. I know a tummy rub will.

Don't think it's the lack of work that has put me so at ease. I'm pretty sure I still have work. If anyone is in AST 203 or ECO 199, you know the nightmare of problems sets. I think the main thing that has let me and so many of my classmates relax is the lack of guilt — all of a sudden we have this get-out-of-jail free card, this excuse to not do anything and not feel bad about it. It was the guilt that killed us before, the guilt that we should always be doing our schoolwork, always should be reading our packets or textbooks instead of frolicking in the sun or in the taproom. The same kind of guilt that chicks on diets get when they eat Ben and Jerry's — this insane self-nagging and anger at oneself for doing something that they had really (REALLY) wanted to but were not supposed to do. I say, why punish ourselves for doing something that we wanted to do in the first place? Just eat the freakin' Chunky Monkey and get over it.

The other day, I accomplished something that I never could do during my childhood, and it gave me more recognizable pleasure than finishing the entire first chapter of my thesis. I put the straw into the Capri Sun juice pack — the silver bag-like juice sacks with the impossibly-angled little hole at the top and the straw made with the dull point so that you won't stab other kids with it. For four years, I struggled with that straw and watched others around me struggle, and now I can do it just as easily as the big kids. I truly have become a woman.

Saturday, I watched 13 episodes of "My So-Called Life" with my roommates. Thirteen hours of angst, anger and Jordan Catalano leaning against things. My thought highlights from Saturday:

1. Crap. I identified with the parents a bit. I don't remember doing that the last time around.

2. What did I used to WEAR?

3. I can't believe I spent a year in geometry and have yet to find one practical use for my angle bisecting skills.

4. Jordan Catalano was, is and forever shall be the hottest man on Earth.

Four life lessons all in one day ain't bad. Props to my roommates for joining me.

So there you have it. Words of advice, laziness and anti-ambition from a girl who's already seen the best sides of being done after a mere four days. Life is good. Jen Adams is a psychology major from Ogdensburg, N.Y. She can be reached at jladams@princeton.edu.