i'm sure shakespeare would have agreed

(Me)
oh fourth year, fourth year! wherefore art thou fourth year?
deny thy exams, and refuse thy papers;
or, if thou wilt not, just give me a good grade and the credit,
and i’ll no longer be overworked and panicked.

(Fourth Year [aside])
shall i hear more, or shall i speak at this?

(Me)
‘tis but thy crazy amount of work that is my enemy; –
thou art supposed to be fun though, not so stressful.
what’s stressful? it is not classes, nor the university,
nor the profs, nor my friends, nor any other part
belonging to a university experience. oh, have less work!
what’s in work! that which we do a 7-10 page paper for
would smell just as sweet as a 15-20 pager (sweeter!);
so fourth year would, were it not to have so many 15-20 page papers,
retain that dear perfection which it owes
without that shit-load of work: – fourth year, doff thy work;
and for thy work, which is no part of thee,
take all myself.