Lauren Rabaino

Lee: Hey Sean, where have you been all day? You look sicker than Old Yeller.

Sean: I wish I were Old Yeller. He had the sweet release of death. I started pacing this morning and I wound up in Los Osos. It’s just that I get so stressed out this time of the quarter. You know what I’m talking about, bud.

Lee: Oh yeah, finals are coming up. Everyone always worries too much and freaks themselves out. You just gotta calm down, you’ll do fine.

Sean: Finals? I’m a liberal arts major, Lee Barats, you silly bastard. My typical final is 15 minutes long and everyone brings a dessert. It’s a cakewalk. Literally. I’m stressin’ about going home over Christmas break to my entire family and trying to explain to them what I could possibly do with a liberal arts degree.

Lee: Oh come on, Sean. You’re overreacting. There’s no way any final exam is that easy and your family can’t be that bad. Aren’t they proud that you’re graduating from college soon?

Sean: Yes and no, except not yes. Unless my name is preceded by a “Dr.,” “Lord” or “The Honorable,” I’ve disgraced the proud name of the Michetti family. Did you know my great uncle invented sex?

Lee: There’s no way that’s true.

Sean: Well to me, he did. And damnit, I’m proud.

Lee: .

Sean: It’s just that a family reunion is such a tense environment. Twenty-two people sitting around while I try to answer all these impossible questions for which I’m not prepared. All the while, I keep getting distracted by the hot chick across the room. I start sweating so much that I have to excuse myself to go to the bathroom and I spend the rest of the night hanging out at the kid’s table. They don’t ask questions.

Lee: Following in your great uncle’s footsteps, eh? Sean, you’ve just described a normal final exam. It’s really nothing to worry about. Your situation is actually less stressful than a final because even if anyone’s disappointed in you, they still have to love you, right?

Sean: I wish. While your slip-ups may cause you to get a bad grade, my wrong answers have gotten me disowned twice, set on fire, and put into a room with my great uncle. You can always retake a class, but you only have one opportunity at making it into a will. It’s a few hundred bucks to retake a class, but a will can contain up to 20 cats. Those things are cute.

Lee: That sounds terrible, but it sounds like you just have a bad family life. Most people look forward to going home and seeing their parents. It’s a break from the all-nighters and Adderall abuse. You really need to stop fretting about your family so you can approach them in a calm, composed way. You’ll be prepared for any awkward question they may ask.

Sean: That’s it! I need to prepare! Like a CIA agent being trained to resist torture and withhold information.

Lee: No, Sean, that’s the complete opposi-

Sean: Quick, ask me a personal question while threatening me with that fire poker.

Lee: This is weird, but all right. Um, what’s your favorite color?

Sean: Um, oh God, green – no, grey. Blue! Wait, blue-green-grey. Yes. That one. No, I forgot about yellow. No, not the poker, oh God!

Lee: Sean, I’m not gonna hit you. It’s just a color, man. What if someone asks you a really personal question? How’s your love life, Sean?

Sean: It’s going great, he’s a wonderful – shit. She’s a homely – damnit. It’s an amorphous – crap. I just can’t do it, Lee. I’m gonna get skewered.

Lee: Wow, Sean. This is really messing with your head. My finals don’t stress me out nearly as much as you are right now. I’d rather take 15 finals than deal with what you do.

Sean: Fifteen finals? That’s a lot of raspberry scones!

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