With only two weeks left in the term, I’m starting to get to a bad stage in my psyche. Like listening to Celine Dion, Andover can be great at first (and I mean really great), but become worse and worse as time goes on. There’s only so much your mind can handle before you start to go nuts. This is a little tutorial of what the symptoms of over-immersion in Andover life are, and how you can remedy them. I saw my first sign of over-immersion about five weeks into this term, when an unsuspecting upperclassman girl was about to feel the wrath of my insanity. It was a normal Thursday night, just like any other, and I had pulled up to the salad bar to pick up some tofu, and lots of it. Just then, a girl came up next to me, and since I thought it was a good idea at the time, I turned to her slowly and made a loud camel noise. Besides the tofu part, I’m really not kidding. Only five seconds afterwards, I realized my folly, but it was a little too late by then. The girl’s terror caused me to hold my head in shame for the rest of the dinner. The next two symptoms I found both have to do with my sleep. Sleep is one of the few times here that you can actually get some rest, and after a solid four hours of homework, it’s a gift. Somehow, however, Andover manages to take even this away from me. A few nights ago I was getting some much needed rest when I started to have a dream. I’m not gonna’ lie, there’s nothing I can do about what types of dreams I have, and this one was very sexual. Some supermodel of an unknown description was dancing in front of me, and instead of the usual lightning-quick positive response that I would usually give (they don’t call me Action Jackson for nothing), I instead told her that she would have to wait and that I would have to see how much homework I had. After calculating it for a good five minutes, I told her that she would have to wait until I had less homework. Even my own dreams are starting to insult my manhood. The next symptom that I found very disturbing is an account of my roommate’s, Vic Miller ’05. According to him, a few nights ago he was woken up by a loud conversation in my room. Thinking I was on the phone at 2:00 a.m., he had to wonder to whom I was talking. Creaking my door open, he instead discovered that I was having a loud conversation with myself in my sleep. Although he’s a little fuzzy about this one, he thinks he has a decent idea of what was said that night: “So what if there isn’t anymore peanut butter? I’ve got soul, man, and that’s all that matters. What’s that? I have a real attitude problem? Where do you get the nerve to talk to a man like that? At the Andover flea market, eh? Go to Hell, heathen!” You might ask yourself what this has to do with being at Andover too long. Well, you ask too many questions. Get off of my back, for the love of God. However, there are a few simple cures for what ails you. The first and most obvious way to cure these symptoms is to get off campus. I don’t really do it too often, but a break from the hectic pace of life here can be nice (I just thought I’d throw in a little note on the Pace of Life Committee here: Does anybody like what you’re getting done? I have an idea! To slow down the pace of life, we should get twice as much homework, have a double in every class each day, and all worship a common god named Zoul who requires seven hours of prayer a night.). Anyway, the other things you can do include listening to loud music, eating, meditating, or spelunking. I find that this school has a wide variety of caves just begging to be explored. “Explore me, Anthony!” they exclaim with great eagerness, as I find my way around the cold, dark surroundings. Those caves are real jerks sometimes. So there you have it. Whether you like it or not, you’re eventually going to lose your mind at this school. The only thing you can do is find a healthy way to let out all your stress and aggression without committing a federal offense. I’d be in jail right now if it weren’t for the help of M.C. Hammer. His soulful lyrics made me realize that there’s more to life than grades and sports, and for that, I thank him.