Lesson 1: Bullshit Through the Plague

It's that special time of year again: collegiate plague season.

No matter what year you are, the fourth or fifth week of college is when the hard, cold truth of living away from home begins to set in. It's not all fun and games anymore. You miss your dog. You've exhausted all of the dining options on campus and your diet consists of mainly ramen, tequila and oreos. Maybe your roommate has always had annoying habits, but now they are thrown into sharp relief. You're running out of money, and to make yourself feel better, you go on an online shopping spree-- which of course only plunges you further into the icy embrace of collegiate poverty. Your professors are piling on homework, there are more clothes in your hamper than in your closet, and to top it all off, you're sick.

Everyone you know is sick. You don't remember what healthy people look like. You see the world through a germ-induced haze. Your friends, your RA, your professors-- everyone is coughing and sneezing and irritable. The only good thing about it is that the one person who seems to live on every single residence hall floor that has really noisy sex at three in the morning is too sick to plunge themselves into the throes of extremely loud and irritating passion every single night.

Here at Radford, the plague tends to take us all out one department at a time. It usually originates in the College of Visual and Performing Arts because art students are all forced to spend large amounts of time together in close quarters due to the nature of our crafts. It then spreads all across campus.

Like capitalism, illness is nature's way of determining who is smart and who is poor. (Ron Swanson, 2010). You can either give up and spend the week reclining on a pile of used kleenex and fall behind in everything, or you can forcefully propel your pale, sickly body through class after class, assignments, work, and more classes. Sure, you'll probably die young-- but guess which option will help you get your degree?

I am writing this from my desk at work, and I have no idea what's going on. Everything in my range of vision had taken on a yellowish tint. My ears are 89% blocked up. I'm pretty sure my head is full of bees. There's like a 30% chance I will either vomit in the wastebasket or hallucinate doing so before the day is over.

But I'm here. How, you ask? Why? Dear God, why? Surely it would be better to be curled up at home with some tea. Well, yes-- and believe me, every inch of me is screaming to call in sick and do just that. But, in the immortal words of, well, myself:

"Mamma didn't raise no little bitch. She raised a big bitch who makes bad decisions." --Madeline Murchie-Beyma, 2015

A blindly stubborn commitment to personal excellence may cause me to die young. Hell, it definitely will. But that's never stopped me before. Here is Madeline's 10-Point Formula for Germ-Fueled Success™:

1. Wear all black. No one will be able to tell that you haven't showered in three days if you look like the center of a black hole. This will also lead to being approached by fewer people, which is always a good thing.
2. Buy a gallon of orange juice. Chug that fucker like a freshman at a frat party. It'll give you both calories and vitamin C-- both essential for bullshitting your way through any illness.
3. Go to 7/11. Buy every cold medicine you can find. Create a chemical cocktail powerful enough to propel your zombie-like form through an entire weekday with minimal injuries.
4. Prioritize your schedule. DO go to classes in your major, advisor meetings, and as much of your job as possible. DON'T go to the core class that has nothing to do with your major and no attendance policy whatsoever.
5. Drink water. Don't be the idiot that stays sick all semester because they're too dumb to stay hydrated.
6. Capitalize on rare moments of downtime. Netflix. Pajamas. Chicken soup. Napping. You know the drill. 
7. Write shit down. No one can remember shit when they have a fever. I don't even remember the title of this article.
8. Create a mantra. Repeat it under your breath during moments of weakness. My current favorite is: "fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck."
9. Don't breathe near other people. This will both prevent you from spreading the illness and from contracting a new one.
10. Be tough with yourself during those inevitable moments of weakness. I don't care that you just vomited. Are you going to get an A in Lighting Design or are you going to be a little bitch?

Stay groovy,

Madeline