The Doctor is in: Real life remedies
Kristen Hampshire
THE POST
This week, I'm playing doctor -move over Judy, Ruth, Laura and Joyce Brothers. Here are some common college student symptoms and real-life remedies you won't get from Hudson Health Center.
Symptoms: Last seen with the Can Man, toting a sack of aluminum to trade for cash money. Items recently sold/pawned: jewelry, books, major appliances, lemonade, roommate (?!). Participates in bargain promotions, such as "two burgers for two bucks" and Quarter Drafts. Grocery list includes a variety of Ramen flavors, beef jerky and generic soda.
Diagnosis: Broke
Remedy: Just because you're financially strapped doesn't mean you're socially tapped. There are a variety of specials every night to accommodate the cash-flow deprived. Never underestimate the culinary possibilities of Ramen noodles. Creativity is key when it comes to maximizing your bank account. And for you optimists, book buyback is only a quarter away.
Symptoms: Position: feet kicked up, magazine by side, sunglasses on, general look of relaxation. Furniture choice varies, from plastic to upholstered, stationary to swinging. Favorite sport: people-watching, accompanied with smoke breaks and quick sprints to the 'fridge to refill a beverage. Known for occasional verbal outbursts to passers-by.
Diagnosis: Porch Potato; otherwise known as 'porch slut.'
Remedy: Why compromise comfort? Spoil yourself with a worn-in recliner (outdated pattern and unidentifiable stains optional) and move your mini-fridge outdoors to avoid distracting "sprints" to the kitchen that take away from valuable porch time. For aspiring porch sluts, consider this important architectural asset when house-hunting. Professionals know that a concrete slab is no substitute for a wrap-around.
Symptoms: Bedroom is decorated with parking-ticket border and a poster-size photo of the "suspect vehicle" is plastered in the Parking Enforcement office. Meter maids know this license plate number better than their own social security number. Parking violations are part of a weekly budget and speed dial is programmed with towing companies' phone numbers. Often found looking for car.
Diagnosis: Towed ... again.
Remedy: Walk. There is no getting around "Parking Enforcement," and feeding meters conflicts with the above "broke" remedy. So sell the car, use the money to fill the mini-fridge on your porch, stop doing the 24-hour car shuffle and save yourself the frustration of figuring out which company in Athens' Towing Mafia ganked your car. Besides, a little exercise never hurt anyone. Otherwise, revert to Plan B: relocate car to backyard and tell landlord it's a life-size lawn ornament.
Symptoms: Welcomes the morning with phrases such as "Turn that frown upside down" and religiously chirps the tune "Good Morning To You." No sign of an alarm clock. Done with classes by noon. Drinks decaf.
Diagnosis: Morning Person
Remedy: Ban 8 a.m. classes. Stay up late watching and analyzing Public Access programs or frequenting local watering holes. Complain of insomnia and compare alarm clock to emergency tornado siren. And for the love of God, stop telling everyone that they already missed the best part of the day.
Symptoms: Plays loud show tunes sporadically and known to "accidentally" lock others out of room while they are in the shower. Last found eating others' homemade treats from Mom and littering mirror area with hair brush clumps. Sings with Walkman on and turns lights/TV/radio/hairdryer on during napping hours.
Diagnosis: Annoying Roommate
Remedy: Join clubs (lots of them). And go to the meetings (all the time). Attain a boy/girlfriend and spend quality time with them (at their place).
Symptoms: Known to engage in compulsive cleaning behavior such as alphabetizing CDs, organizing closet by clothing color and doing dishes (clean ones, included). Checks e-mail every four minutes and occupies waking hours with rerun marathons. Found cooking dinner ... for a party of 25. Day planner collects dust on desk, doubling as a coaster and paperweight. Favorite word: "later." Common expression: "Time is on my side."
Diagnosis: Friend, you are a procrastinator.
Remedy: Being a procrastinator actually can be quite productive. After all, your house is clean, you're quickly becoming a culinary genius and you've seen every Real World episode aired. Why not offer your skills to others while you're at it and turn this procrastination "problem" into a philanthropic affair?
Your friends will appreciate your neat-freak enthusiasm when you offer to clean after parties. Significant others will benefit from a variety of made-from-scratch meals.
As for the reruns, I recommend subscribing to TV Guide. That way you can practice time-management skills by organizing your day around crucial must-see programs.
Hampshire, a senior journalism major, will hold office hours on her front porch. Donations for services go toward her "parking enforcement" fund.
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