Dear O’Neill,
I think I need a break from you. I’ve spent more time sitting at the same desk, on the same floor, in the same library, these past two weeks than I have sitting in home-sweet-Cushing with my friends.
The fifth floor of O’Neill holds a special place in my heart, but you know what they say about too much of a good thing. I can only spend so much time gazing at the Boston vista (that’s partially obscured by that random roof) and avoiding my homework.
I can only spend so much mental energy strategizing my seat location to get an outlet and hungrily contemplating making a dash to Hillside. It’s time you and I started seeing a little bit less of each other, because your loving embrace is starting to feel more like a jail cell. That being said, I have learned a lot from my hours in that straight-backed chair, headphones in, laptop in front of me. I look like I’m doing work, but I can assure you, I’m probably not.
As hour 11 of consecutive library-sitting approached two Saturdays ago, I took a break from my African-American migration paper and started to notice the other fine sorts of people who were in my same situation on that bright and cheery St. Patty’s Day weekend. O’Neill, you have a lot of variety in terms of friends. There are a few types of O’Neill goers:
First, you seem to have a lot of the “This Isn’t Bapst, So I’m Not Doing Serious Work” type: this is the person who is such a library connoisseur that he has his massive pile of work divided into two sections: to Bapst, or not to Bapst?
He’s hanging out with you, O’Neill, now, so he’s probably only doing his online Spanish homework and maybe his Philosophy of the Person reading, if he’s feeling ambitious.
Next is the frantic studier. This person puts the “dying” into studying because she looks so unhappy. She has a whole table of the aforementioned fifth floor to herself, and you know it’s covered in flashcards and bookmarked textbooks. Probably wearing glasses and sweatpants. Definitely looks sad.
Then you have the opposite of the frantic studier: the college pamphlet library-goer. This type is maybe the most confusing-how can someone study in a blazer and statement necklace?
Isn’t she uncomfortable wearing skinny jeans all the time? She looks so nice that I feel like she wandered in here almost by mistake-brunch is that way. This type of person is necessary for the promotional pamphlets in order to keep up the deception that all Boston College students always look perfectly polished.
Then you have the cross between the previous two. This person exemplifies BC’s personal motto: J. Crew with a hangover. Probably a boy wearing a nice sweater and a grimace and reading about macroeconomics. Vaguely depressed-looking, but impressively devoted to his studies. Most likely counting down the hours until he can retire to Walsh and be the reigning beer pong champ.
Then, there’s the high-energy studier. She probably is wearing an all-spandex neon outfit and Nike Frees. She’s the type that jiggles her foot while reading and will definitely summon the energy to run five miles at the Plex after finishing her work. Impressive in many facets of life.
The last category of O’Neill-goer is the one I fit into most: I’m just trying to survive and finish my work, but first I have to figure out what kind of bagel I am, which secondary Harry Potter character I am, and what I should eat for lunch. Thanks, BuzzFeed, for telling me more about myself than I ever thought was possible. Now that I’m thoroughly psychoanalyzed, I can get down to work.
So, O’Neill, you’re always an educational experience for me. I can’t say that I love you, but I feel some fondness growing between us. Did you miss me on Friday? It must have been hard for you, not seeing me for the first time in two weeks.
At least you had your various friends hard at work on floor five. I’m sensing a really good movie about the dynamics between the regular cast of characters. I’m sure we could round up a criminal, athlete, brain, basket case, and princess-let’s call it “The O’Neill Club.”
