By Jill Girgulis, November 3 2015 —
Days off from lectures and labs are a rare occurrence in university. We’re expected to be more resilient than high schoolers, who need Friday off at least twice a month in order to function properly. When students do find themselves blessed with these mini-vacations, it’s usually uncharted territory. We don’t know what to do with ourselves and these newfound hours. Thankfully, the Gauntlet can help you navigate the rough waters of reading break.
Sleep: Take a page from the grizzly bear and prepare yourself for the long winter ahead. Now that Halloween is over, consume 20 per cent of your body weight in on-sale Mars® bars and Kit Kats® and get comfy on one of MacHall’s leather couches — teddy bear onesie optional. You can last an entire semester like this.
Go on a vacation: Better yet, just move away. The cost of a one-way ticket to Venice is cheaper than your tuition. You’ll be trading in Subway® for high quality cuisine and stale Canadian history lectures for an authentic Italian experience. Do you know anyone in Venice who looks weary and burdened? Didn’t think so.
Study: Instead of cramming for your November midterms, study the nose of the guy sitting next to you on the C-train. What does it tell you about his life story? Does that little mole on his left nostril represent a deep-seated fear of disappointing his pet salamander Frederico? And how about that smudge on the bridge of his nose? Is he secretly a world-champion hula hooper?
Just chill: Put on a tuxedo, break into the Calgary Zoo at 3:00 a.m. and discretely slip into the Penguin Plunge exhibit. Whether or not the plucky penguins will accept you as one of their own depends on how convincing your penguin belly slide. Better practice your slide now.
Spend time with friends: Gather up your closest pals and set up tents in the Math Sciences hallway. Proceed to spend 56 hours staring at the wooden artwork until you see the face of Kim Kardashian advising you to be #selfish. Eventually you will lapse into a hypnotic state and decide to fill the Prairie Chicken with 50,000 zippers and paper clips.