Column: Gone but not forgotten

Anna Stockton mourns the death of her social life

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Parker Nolan

“I have watched it suffer and deteriorate until its final breath disappeared in a puff of dual credit English homework.”

Regretfully, I must inform the student body of a great and terrible loss upon this school. On Aug. 21, at the ripe age of 17, my social life passed on from this life after a hard fought battle with the mountains of homework shoved haphazardly in my backpack.

The signs of my social life’s demise were apparent from the beginning of junior year, and since then, I have watched it suffer and deteriorate until its final breath disappeared in a puff of dual credit English homework. Helpless, I had to watch as plans were forced to be cancelled. My passenger car door seemed to rust shut from lack of use, the friends who once occupied the seat fading from memory. Even now, their voices grow distant.

My social life is survived by the hours of homework and extracurriculars that still must be attended and excelled within. Eight classes, half of which are laborious. Three extracurriculars that require time commitment. A dozen friends who may or may not care that I can no longer hang out after school. And a dog that is considerably content with the recent death, as it means I’m around the house more.

There will be no funerary service, as there is simply no time. My social life died slowly and painfully, but such details do not matter to the teachers and professors giving me countless assignments. My body remains (mostly) functional, and because of this, it must continue on with my daily schedule despite the gaping hole in my heart that was once my social life.

A special thanks goes out to my two periods of art class in the morning for not assigning homework outside of class. They were the reason my social life was able to last so long and will continue to motivate my social-lifeless self to get up and get work done in my classes.

While my social life may be gone, we will all do our best to keep it in our memories. Some will smile, thinking of all the late night Braums runs, and some will look back in sadness, recalling all the times I’ve tripped just walking on the sidewalk with my friends. But still, we will remember and hope that its memory will one day be strong enough to revive itself. It may be gone, but it is never forgotten.