
It’s 11:51 a.m. on Friday morning, and my stomach keeps growling as I attempt to play it off by looking around my chemistry classroom. I have just been assigned a 10-page partner lab project and not only am I not going to do any work, but no one will ever find out. Each time I feel his stare meet mine, I am tempted to accidentally pick up my computer and smash it into his face. But, unfortunately, my eyes drift to something even less compelling than his work ethic: his notes.
You know, I haven’t always been like this. I used to make the group chats, checking in on everyone, one, two, heck, even three nights before the assignment was due, but I have come to one conclusion: Why do the work when other people can do it for you? What’s the point if we all receive the heavenly gift of a group grade? Learning? Hah, no.
Anyway, I digress. I must address the chemistry lab assignment due this Monday at 8 a.m. and how I plan on fully executing my work-less plan.
After seeing the clock read 12:40 p.m. I sprinted away from him to the only safe place on campus: the Baker basement bathroom.
Even after spending the academic day avoiding him, my job was not yet finished. So, from 3:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m., until the conclusion of Strength and Conditioning, I precisely calculated each route to avoid him and his posse that followed him everywhere he went.
Once I felt the weekend rapidly approaching, I was hit with the first shred of accomplishment, but I kept pushing myself to procrastinate and avoid the project.
From 11:59 p.m. on Friday evening to 11:59 p.m. on Saturday night, I was unreachable, unbothered, and untouchable. You see, the trick when trying to weasel your way out of a group project is simply being kind and attentive. I did respond to the 84 messages in the group chat. Even though I did so at 3:24 a.m. on Sunday, I still actively participated. The key to my brilliant plan was that I was executing it meticulously.
At 7:00 a.m. Sunday morning, when I was looking over the 75% completed lab draft and I saw the little blue icon in the top right-hand corner of the document, I immediately opened that chat to do the one thing I swore I would never do: inflate his ego. It was truly my last resort–I didn’t even understand how to draw a water molecule (was it H3O or H2O4? I would never know).
After texting him, “Hey, would you mind revising these three sentences and doing the rest of my two paragraphs? I think it caters better to your strengths and abilities,” I knew I had him in the palm of my hand.
Once he left my AI-generated text on read, I knew that bright gold A was sealed and graciously waiting in my Canvas portal and I didn’t even have to use the power outage or animal infestation excuses. My stealth and procrastination were no match for his efforts. I had won.
So, going forward, if you even attempt to mirror my mastery, start with a casual glance at your classmate’s Google Docs and channel your most avoidant, evasive, and procrastinating self. Best of luck, and make me proud!