The clarion call has been sounded, and you know what that means. The time has come to face the adventure of getting from Base A: Your house, to Base B: The lecture hall. You’re no stranger to this adventure — or so you think. In fact, back when the temperature meant you could be outside with shorts on and not instantaneously contract frostbite, you had that adventure down pat. Pfft! Adventure, schmadventure — it was a walk in the park. But, alas, the seasons have changed and the stakes have only broadened. The frontier you once walked circles around now spins sleet circles around you.
So, get up, it’s time to face this adventure. The far-off, distant land — your class lecture hall — awaits your seat at the fold-out, much-too-small chair. Donning all of your accoutrement to prepare for this cold, you begin to resemble Eric Cartman’s distinctive bundled up look. How chic! This way the cold knows you’re not playing around. The final element of your uniform to prepare for this cold? Your backpack. Equipped with all the necessary supplies so that no vagary shall stump you, you now not only look like the beloved South Park character, but also a Ninja Turtle with your protruding shell on. All the better!
As you make your first steps out of the threshold, which represents the difference between shelter and the storm, you take a deep breath in. This does not calm you as you had hoped, it instead makes you feel like you have ingested Lip Plumper and it is now making the inside of your throat look like it had the Kylie Jenner Lip Kit dumped all over it. Never fret, that’s nothing for a trooper like you! As you valiantly advance, you make a visual statement about how agile you are. Even though the ground would probably require ice skates to steadily get across, you hobble and wobble your way through it all without shame, smiling when you do slip so that people around you know that you’re somebody who can take on embarrassment in stride, no big deal!
Your face feels as though one of the face-sucking aliens from Alien has clamped on to it and is made entirely out of Icy-Hot. Never fear, a brilliant idea strikes you down: Procure thineself a coffee. You must have some energy to keep pushing forward, as well for the purpose of at least keeping your eyes open once you finally reach the end of your quest. Once you make it to the coffee shop, there is a line almost out of the door. Your mental fortitude has only been strengthened by this immense adventure — you can wait your turn for your rations.
Once you finally have your energy-boosting drink conferred upon you, you realize you made a grave mistake. Thinking that you should super-size it so as to maximize its potential for energy, you now cradle the coffee with both hands as though it is a helpless baby. Don’t forget to support its head! You advance onward, as the coffee sloshes and spurts all over not only your (expensive!) adventure-ready coat, but also your dignity.
Bearing the weight of the weakest link in your caravan, you manage to carry on, now confronting the legendary hill. Nimbly, you dodge fellow adventurers, even though they dart in front of you or alternatively, take a leisurely pace — no doubt soaking up the winter wonderland scenery all around. One step after another, your mind oscillates between the fact that your foot only just barely made that last step, and that people are seemingly looking at you. You now begin to think that everyone around you has come to the telekinetic consensus that you are massively underdressed, and worse, underprepared. Clacking with the heels you wore so as to tie together the outfit that nobody can even see, you push past this fact.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, all of your effort seems worth it: There sits the courtly lecture hall in all of its glittering majesty. The glittering element may be due to the fact that icicles have now formed around your eyelids. There is no mote in this adventure tale, as that would only act as a third space skating rink. There is not a dragon either, your stomach growling due to the fact that you forgot to eat breakfast is dragon enough.
Finally, you take up a seat in the lecture hall. You made it! The holy grail of your adventure is finding a seat that is not between two people. That’s not happening, but hey, count your blessings, at least you’re there for the attendance points. You now sit back, thawing as if you were the creature from The Thing being melted out of a huge block of ice. People around you join in a not-so-perfect-pitch chorus of sniffles and coughs. The rustling of coats always on a low simmer, even well after the professor has begun the lecture.
When it comes time for the adventure of returning home, you’re shaking in your impractically fashionable heeled boots. People are lining up behind you somehow already fully packed and zipped up in their parkas. As you frantically toss on your layers, you think that you can never do this again. You will, and will continue to do so for the entire week, the entire month and all the remaining years you’re a student here.
