No Middle Ground

August 9, 2007

Medical discovery! In a moment of brilliance, I have recently identified a strain of fine-motor skill deficits that many people may experience but have never been diagnosed. It's the *-happy disease.

We've all heard of the term 'snap-happy', as in when people take an obscene number of photographs, usually as a result of pure excitement and the inability to control the fine motor movements of the index finger sitting on top of the shutter release button.

A close cousin to the 'snap-happy' disorder is the 'turn-happy' disorder. I have experienced the effects of this disorder at many instances throughout my life. The effects can be devastating. Let me introduce you to this new illness.

Turn-happy occurs when people are unable to control the fine motor movements in their fingers when operating any sort of knob or dial. For example, in my younger days, I had the tendency to listen to music at a high enough volume to blow out anyone's ear drums within a 5 km radius. I now know that this is probably not a good idea if I want to be able to hear anything when I turn the ripe old age of 30. Anyway, back in the day, my mom would always tell me to turn the music down, and when I didn't, she would come and turn it down 'a little' for me.

My mom was turn-happy. How do I know? Every single time we were in the car and she touched a knob, she would either turn it all the way up, or all the way down. There was no middle ground. At times, the music was so low it may as well have been off. At other times, especially now, I am violently surprised when I get into the car after my mom has used it and have my own ear drums blown out because she has cranked the radio to the highest possible volume. Maybe she's just trying to get back at me.

Anyway, I only bring up this point because now, in the insufferable heat of my first ever Waterloo summer, I find myself stuck. Outside, it is buuuurning hot, the sun is ruthless. Yesterday, when I went to write my first final of the summer, I found myself sitting in the industrial-sized freezer they call the PAC. It seems as though the guys managing the a/c on campus have a little case of the turn-happys themselves because all the buildings have air conditioning turned on to the max, no matter how hot or cold (because of the rain) it is outside.

Now, in the middle of a hot summer, I am forced to lug along an extra sweat shirt and pair of sweat pants just in case I feel like studying in a refrigerated room. Way to not be environmentally (or people) friendly, Waterloo.