Monkey Business

russ’s depression

Monday, April 5, 5:00 p.m.

Seventy-five issues of Forbes, two hundred issues of the Economist, and three hundred viewings of Family Ties, and now I might never graduate from business school.

Unbelievable.

“Anyone else?” Jamie asks. “Any arguments against why, as domestic producers who export half our goods to foreign markets, we would be hesitant to support an import quota? Russ?”

I shrug.

I’m leaning against the door to Jamie’s room, barely paying attention to what anyone is saying. We’re working on an assignment for GBE that’s due sometime this week. Unfortunately, I can’t concentrate. I don’t know how Kimmy can be so focused when we could get expelled next week.

I still don’t think we did anything that horrible. Who cares? Everyone borrows.

“Nothing to add, Russ?” Jamie asks. Again I shrug. I know Jamie’s pissed at me. But what does he want me to do? Admit I copied Kimmy’s paper? If I admit it, I’ll probably get expelled. If they can’t prove it, then the worst that could happen is that I fail the course. None of this is Jamie’s business, anyway. And Kimmy begged me not to tell. She thinks this is the better way to go. Even if we both fail the course-big deal. We can take it again. She doesn’t even think that O’Donnel will rescind its offer.

Someone knocks on the door, and the pounding reverberates against my back. I scoot over so Nick can squeeze inside. Droplets of water from his wet hair slide down his face. He smells like minty shampoo. “I know I’m late, man. Basketball went late. But I wrote up some arguments for the GBE assignment in favor of the quota I thought we could use.”

I haven’t been to basketball all week. I don’t feel like doing anything anymore. Maybe my apathy is from burnout. I took on too many projects and am now devoid of energy.

With great power comes great responsibility. That’s the theme line from Spider-Man. Back in September I had great power. I thought I could do anything.

I screwed everything up.