To do my homework or not to do my homework—that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of potentially outrageous grading,
Or to take arms against a sea of overly complicated assignments
And, by opposing, end them. To slack off, to sleep—
And by a sleep I mean the full eight hours,
The heartbeat and the thousand natural dreams
That each and ev'ry student truly deserves
Each night; but use every student after his desert
And who should 'scape whipping? To bed, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to get some rest
And actually be able to keep my eyes open
During first period tomorrow. Ay, there's the rub,
For in this homework of doom what dreams may come?
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Of papers, essays, worksheets, and the like,
There remains no time to get a decent sleep
Especially considering the fifteen thousand concerts and shows I have this week,
And that must give us pause. Where's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life?!
For who would bear the whips and scorns of AD English?
Although, I must say, Physics A is worse.
The pangs of despised students, the lab reports,
Th' investigative tasks, the English quiz,
The twelve-page memoir that I chose to write,
The senior project reflection; or maybe not.
Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something in the work,
Like the fact that this line isn't in iambic pentameter,
My teacher might find, and in doing so
Take off a point, or two, or three, or fifty.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the fact that I can't write every line in iambic pentameter,
And I think I'm just going to take some liberty with the rest of this assignment and I don't care HOW I end it or HOW good it actually is because, after all, I AM A SENIOR AND I DESERVE TO TAKE SOME LIBERTIES.
Soft you now, the fair grader Mrs. Baruzzi.
Nymph, in thy orizons be the letter "H," which seems to have gone missing from that word, remembered.