Spending Worthless Nights at Olin Libe

Olin Library. Sunday night. It is approaching 10 p.m. and there is nowhere you would rather be — assuming, of course, that Entourage is in its off-season. You’ve got weeks’ worth of work to do and enough caffeine in your system to last three days. You’re looking good because, hey, you never know who may stand behind you in the coffee line, and you’re feeling good because you’re already at the library — is that not half the battle? You might be parked across the Quad in a tow zone, but for as long as you can convince yourself that you are being quasi-productive, you can defer the cold and rainy trek home.

First, find a seat. This, however, is not nearly as simple as it might sound. There are three classes of seating at Olin Library, and you, savvy studier, must make a decision. You’ve got the first floor desks, “Asia” and the so-quiet-you-could-hear-a-pin-drop reading rooms. The choice is yours.

The first floor desks are for loyal Olin aficionados. These individuals know that you can’t get there past 8 p.m. and expect a good seat. They have calculated to the nearest minute the times of the day their domain is uninhabited. First Floor Deskers like to see and be seen. Despite popular belief, they can actually be productive; though, it is only with the help of the occasional exciting passerby that they get through their evenings. While they may watch more fellow students than nutrition lecture slides, First Floor Deskers are among the upper echelon of Olin-goers.

On the other side of the spectrum is the Kroch Library Asian Collection, known as “Asia.” It is home to those who have just narrowly missed the opportunity to snag a first floor desk. Having arrived a mere 12 minutes after class has let out, or at noon during a prelim week, these individuals have no choice but to scrounge for an open table, a free seat and an accessible outlet in Asia. Asia studiers can be found at either packed tables or minute single-person desks with laptops whose power cords are just long enough to fall short of the wall. The only real benefits of sitting in Asia are bathrooms you don’t need stairs to reach.

Finally, there are cubicles, stacks and the eerily quiet reading rooms. When in need of complete silence, serious cramming and utter anti-sociality, this is where you want to be. Without phone service, your BBMs are fruitless. With bookracks, walls and dividers in your way, your attempts at distraction are null. While such self-inflicted punishment may seem unreasonable, it can produce some lofty results. Got an eight-pager to write, a problem set to finish AND an exam to cram for? Hide away in the depths of Olin Library, and, miraculously, you’ll be just fine.

Now that you’ve found somewhere to station yourself, sit down and let the work begin. Starting, however, is usually the hardest part. You’ve probably brought your computer even though your work will not require it. You will undoubtedly feel the need to check your e-mail, Facebook and fantasy football scores because it has already been 27 minutes since the last time you did so. While your cell phone continues to buzz and you make eyes with the cutie across the table, you can finally unload, take a deep breath and get started.

You’ve been at the library for approaching two hours and have read but two chapters. You’re printing pages from Net-Print as if they are free. After your sixth celebrity gossip blog, you realize that there is nothing about Hollywood you don’t already know. And, continuing to look around for someone, anyone who has made a study guide for your exam on Tuesday, you recognize that you have hit your mid-evening slump. You might take a walk around for some people-watching, go for another bathroom break or, alternatively, make your way to Libe Café.

What might more accurately be described as a black hole, Libe Café is a place where the term “study break” has developed a new meaning. While naïve students may try to conduct study groups or review sessions within the Café, the socializing force is simply too strong to overcome. It’s obvious when you weigh the options: schmooze or study? Time is wasted, minutes fly by, and coffee is consumed like water. And while you may not care to order your own coffee cake, you pray for samples each time you enter, but are only seldom treated. Friends gather to lament their assignments and remain entrapped in the sweet diversion of Libe Café until someone ultimately notes the time. When this happens, powwows disperse and all students return miserably to their desks.

When your eyes are strained from reading and your wrists feel as if you might be developing carpal tunnel syndrome, there is no mistaking the fact that it is time to go. You may have spent more time stalking Facebook albums than studying your marketing notes, but you have hit the point of no return. Packing up and walking outside, it has inexplicably gotten darker, colder and rainier, and your walk is further than it was coming in. You are weary but over-caffeinated, half-done with what you set out to do, and can only look forward to next Sunday when you can do it all over again.