Something strange happens in the library as finals loom near. The usually decorous environment descends into chaos as students come to a collective realization – “I haven’t put forth any effort this entire semester.”

Even the most impeccable dressers don the same shabby ensemble days in a row. People outside pass out amphetamines like Halloween candy. I swear I see people sleeping behind the stacks. Students at study tables drown in pools of tears and Red Bull. The Princeton Review, who hilariously ranked this stress cesspool as one of its top 10 college libraries, would be ashamed.

But even when the semester started, with finals nowhere in sight, I noticed everyone I know was constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown – myself included. The pervasive theme in our college lives seems to be that there’s so much to do, and there’s only 24 hours in a day.

After one week, I hit a low point. I was overcommitted and overworked, and I deemed myself too busy for such wastes of time as sleeping and eating.

Some days, I literally didn’t have time to go to class. I even hoped to exert myself to the point of hospital-worthy exhaustion – but not to evoke pity. I figured that hospitalization would make me exempt from all of my one-too-many commitments and might at least earn me some crushed ice and a flower bouquet.

But I then remembered that hospitalization for “exhaustion” is but a mere medical myth Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie perpetuate to cover up drug addictions or wanton promiscuity. I was out of luck.

For those of us not lucky enough to be A-List wastes-of-space, there’s no rest for the weary.

People seem to think that because we’re young folks, and apparently not real people, we can take on infinite amounts of work. We may be able to eat in large quantities and not gain weight, read small print in newspapers and ride roller coasters without vomiting, but we can’t do everything.

Until the world realizes this, I find solace in life’s simple pleasures. I can now attest to the therapeutic powers of taking a break for a crossword puzzle, a catnap or an episode of “America’s Next Top Model” in syndication. Because ultimately, stressing ourselves out to make perfect grades will only bring on heart attacks at young ages.

If you ever see me around campus, disheveled and hopped up on caffeine (and you most likely will), remember: Do as I say, and not as I do.

Please take care of yourselves.

And say no to Adderall.