In an uncharacteristic defense of my liberal arts education, I’d like to begin by saying that this is actually the story of how I didn’t do a lot of the things I needed to get done over break.
But since I can’t acknowledge my own shortcomings, I’m going to direct my anger at the school I chose to attend. (Who really needs self-improvement?)
Everyone knows that feeling: It’s Saturday morning and you realize that in addition to 200 pages of reading, you have to write an essay and an article, and that you need to start the reading for that class you've been ignoring whose midterm is in a matter of days. You had all week, really, but your family, friends, and Netflix were too seductively accessible to even think about anything else.
