The beginning of each new school year brings with it a fair share of inconveniences and irritations. For my money, there is nothing more annoying than trying to workout at the SERF at the beginning of a new school year.
In the early days of September, every UW-Madison student with opposable thumbs seems convinced that this will be the year they will finally stay committed to working out, when of course, most of them will trade their sneakers and free weights for flip-flops and schnapps by mid-October.
Yet, while it's annoying having to wait in line to use the light dumbbells, I understand the desire to start fresh with the new school year. It's natural to get caught up in the excitement of new classes, new apartments or in my case, a new pair of oven mitts that are designed to look like bears. The reality of the packed SERF is that this is the time of year when we revel in the fantasy of improving ourselves drastically in the span of a few short months.
Every year, students deliver September speeches about \turning a new leaf."" Every year is supposed to be the year we get straight A's and stop watching TV so much. But the return to mediocre grades and ""Saved By the Bell"" marathons is inevitable. What we sometimes fail to understand is that self-improvement comes in baby steps, not giant leaps. This year, I'd like to put forth a humbler set of goals for myself, some of which you may want to borrow.
To begin things, this year, I will not insist on watching ""Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead"" every time it's on TV. I will only play air guitar in my room if my blinds are closed, since I'm pretty sure people can see into my room from Gilman Street. This year, I will call my parents more frequently, even if my father is the single worst phone conversationalist in the Western world.
This year, I will not fall in love with the first blonde to make eye contact with me in one of my discussion sections. I will make better use of my time. I will not engage in four-hour arguments about baseball, especially ones involving Cubs fans. I will stop chasing rabbits into alleys off Gorham Street every time I see them.
With these new cuts to my procrastination, there will be time for special projects. I'd like to build a zip-line straight from my window to Hawk's, allowing me to purchase quesadillas more efficiently. I'd also like to track down all the movie critics who recommended ""Seabiscuit"" and poke them with sticks for two-and-a-half hours to repay them for the experience. And maybe, after all of that, there will be time to go to the library, too.
This is the time of year for self-improvement. I urge you to think in baby steps when setting your goals. The only thing harder than coming out of college in one piece is coming out of college as a slightly better piece than you were before. I wish you all luck in turning a new leaf. And if you need help, you know where to find me; either in the SERF waiting for the light dumbbells, or at The Chicago Sun-Times, poking Roger Ebert with a stick.
