Ouachita Stories

We all have a sign that lets us know the semester is coming to an end: the amount of freshmen huddled in the commentary section of the library rushing to finish their exegeticals, the group projects, the amount of tests or the four 15-page papers assigned at the beginning of the year that you’ve been procrastinating for three months. (It was all on the syllabus. I could’ve started earlier than a week before the due date. But binge-watching Netflix sounded better at the time. I regret nothing.)

However, one universal sign that we can all use to determine how close we are to end-of-semester is the amount of desperate faces in the student center.

They’re looking longingly over at the Dr. Jack’s baristas, craving the sweet nectar of caffeine, a college necessity. Yet, their $450 was recklessly spent in the first couple weeks of the semester. Now, look where they find themselves. They’re stuck in an internal debate: Do I spend money from my dwindling bank account, ask a friend for their Chick money or slowly suffer in a sleep-deprived and hunger state?

In these groups, I find myself as the reckless spender, and at this point in every semester, I am stuck pondering my money squandering habits. Where did all my money go? Was it during rush and pledge week when the caf hours did not fit into my schedule? Was it the medium Caramel Coffey Chip with whip every morning (and the occasional one in the afternoon)? The weekend’s worth of Sandella’s quesadillas? The answer is yes to all the above. My allotted $450 of Chick money disappeared faster than my childhood.

So what do I do?

I most likely will find myself strategically positioned in the student center, searching for the budgeters. I knew who they would be: the people who walk confidently and happily up to pay for their food. They are the ones with the money. They are the heroes for the rest of us. Who cares if I haven’t talked to them since that one time during WOW my freshman year (or talked to them at all)? We’re all friends here, right? Please, do not make me eat a PB&J every night for the rest of the semester.

To the student budgeters: Blessings. Blessings on you. Blessings on your cow. Blessings on your whole family.

To the reckless spenders: Just try to be better next year? That probably won’t happen, though.

 

By Sarah Davis, a 2018 mass communications and Christian studies/Christian ministry Ouachita grad from Beebe, Ark.