Math 1010

Tim turned to me after four hours and said "I'm done Sam. Nothing's registering anymore. It's no use."
I agreed with him. I felt a sudden twang of pity for math teachers, professors, and gurus around the world. How would it be to live every day with such splitting headaches? How would it be to have best friends who can't even talk, who are scratches of graphite on recycled tree-paper? I looked up at Ephraim Hanks --the grad student who was running the review session we were at -- and smiled at the thought.
A rousing 45 minutes of foursquare to end the night was fully needed and completely satisfying. Tim is the reigning champion. His name is whispered with fear around campus. "The rugged whale" is what they call him.
Our secret password for foursquare nights is "white rhino." It pops up randomly. Sometimes three times a week the word will shoot through the Logan city population of students. Sometimes once a week. But when it comes, adrenaline, anticipation, hyperventilation, and inflation always accompany the word.
It's a revolution. When people hear we're playing foursquare the most common retort is "I haven't played in a decade. " But when they come, they can't let it go. It's life-changing.
My alarm rang angrily at 6:15 this morning. I begged it for 10 more minutes and it obliged reluctantly. After a not-warm-enough shower and cold cereal, I ran up the hill to Tim's place where he was waiting eagerly. We commented quietly about how cold it was. I tried to calm my anxiety by telling Tim some solid suggestions I'd received about this test. We parted ways once we entered the Engineering building, and attacked the 40 problem brain-buster USU math professors had spent months preparing.
And now it's done and time to ski.