To apply, or not to apply, that is the question:
Whether ‘tis prudent in the mind to choose
The schools and programs of prestigious standing
Or to take arms against parental expectations
And by opposing, be disowned. To sleep – to cry,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The torments and over-caffeinated nights
Seniors are heir to: ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to fail – ay, there’s the rub:
For in that sleep we’ll fail what tests may come,
When we have slept instead of studying,
Must give us fear – there’s the respect
That makes scholars of us unwilling.
For who would bear the tribulations of Algeo,
Counting tests, mathematical induction
Problem sets, and sinusoidal functions
And practice questions to avoid mistakes
When he himself might his quietus make
With procrastination? What would students bear,
To grunt and sweat under a Calc textbook,
But that the dread of failing all their tests
The unbridled expectations, from whose bourn,
All students fall diseased, (millennial angst)
And makes us rather bear the stress we have
Than go instead to community college?
Thus reputation does make dunces of us all,
And thus the sweet rose of youthful aspiration
Is sicklied o’er with a green taint – for aught
And inmost dreams of fantastic scale and zeal
With this regard have their essence swept away
And lose the life within. Soft you now,
The fair McMaster! Sir, in thy gentle hands
Be all my marks (please?) boosted.
