"The Comp"

I recently moved into my new room for the year. It's a sign that the start of senior year is quickly approaching, which is scary and exciting. I'm looking forward to getting back into the swing of classes and such [cut to two weeks into the semester and I'm banging my head against the wall], but scary because soon I will have no choice but to begin the horrifying task of "comping" [shriek]. Comping, as it is defined in The Ultimate Guide for Nerdy Students Attending Such Demanding Higher Educational Institutions It Turns Their Brains To Mush, is the act of attempting to understand, analyze, and report on data, experiences, and research findings based on a topic you thought you might be interested in four months ago. This all culminates into a period of frustration, disappointment, then grief as you have now convinced yourself that you aren't fit to exist in the world of academia and your survival up to this point has been based on pure bullshitting skill, your mother's care packages of bubbles and coloring supplies, and that four leaf clover you ate when you were three. On that note, I think I'll go sit in the corner of my new room and rock back and forth with my head between my knees.