Basement Carrels

On the NINTH day of finals, my law school gave to me
"9 Students carreling
8 2Ls tabbing
7 words a-limiting
6 1Ls sprinting
5...CAN I JUST HAVE A B?
4 Cups of coffee
3 Hours sleeping
2 Printer meltdowns
and an Evidence test without the F.R.E."

Unfortunately, even in this, the most festive of times, we don't have a lot of time for actual caroling. Instead, we are holed up in our carrels. Thus carreling was born.

Carreling differs greatly from caroling in that there is no singing involved. It is not allowed, because the carrels are quiet areas. Carreling also sucks joy and smiles out of you, rather than allowing you to share them with others. Some say carreling is "the gift that keeps on giving." Clearly, whoever said this has no idea what they are talking about. I think "the curse that keeps on cursing" would be more accurate.

All that being said, I am thankful for my carrel. I'm down in the basement, and couldn't be happier about it. Besides the guy next to me, I don't see to many souls down here on a regular basis. What that means is that it's a quite area that actually is...well...quiet. It's got a couple things in common with a casino: there are no clocks on the wall, windows and bathrooms are hard to come by, the light is oh-so-artificial, and you don't have to go to far to find someone who looks depressed.

Sometimes I wonder if time passes while I am down here. When I have my computer up and running, I see the time. But other than that, I really have no guarantees that life hasn't ceased to exist. Hopefully things are ok up there in the real world.