Secret Study Space: Vol. VIII

So midterms are back again. Some might argue that they never left in the first place, but the unhappy conclusion is that you have to study. And studying is an activity is best done in a quiet, secluded place. Presenting volume VIII (I’ll soon have to ditch the Roman numerals; they’re becoming unwieldy) of BlogDH’s secret study space series.

This secret study space is located a bit far from the heart of the campus, but a brisk walk will get you there in 10 minutes. The walk is well worth it, because this study space is almost completely deserted. Just look at all those empty chairs! Also there is an abundance of outlets scattered around the room. Finally, there is an emergency exit (with an unbroken exit sign!!) in case your brain overheats while studying. What more do you want?

As for its location? Well that’s a secret, but since I’m being so magnanimous I thought I’d drop a hint: the silence here is music to my ears.


An open love letter to you, the newfound study space

If this compromises her location, I swear...

If this compromises her location, I swear…

I’ve recently entered a relationship, or a love affair, rather, that has gotten pretty serious. When I wake up, I think of seeing her (sometimes with disdain). I have the urge to just go see her and get in the zone for a couple hours. As I approach the place I know she will always reside, my heart races with excitement, also frightened at the possibility of her having no interest in me, but not by choice. I am tormented when I walk by and see another paramour spending the quality time with her that I know I would enjoy more. I feel cheated. I am talking, of course, of my newfound love for my favorite study space. Oh yes, it’s finals season.

I’ve never been one for relationships with the library. It used to pain me to trek to the SciLi in the winter to work on that problem set or reading assignment. I’d rather hang out on my bed and do my work than hunker down in the stacks. All that changed, however, when I found, well, let’s call her Settia (I found a fake poinsettia there today so it seems fitting) to protect her identity and my ability to access the space. Her light-colored, upbeat wood, the enticing silence surrounding her, her refined, curvy accompanying chair. Oh man, she’s perfect. When I’m with her, it’s just me, her, and my War and Politics books. Romantic, huh? Continue Reading