Illustration by Josh Hagler

By the time this column goes to press, it will be Nov. 9. Which means mid-November. Which means the end of the semester. Which means panic, fear and loathing.

Homecoming? What? Maybe someone out there has time to worry about which pair of popular, athletic action figures will win the right to flash their picture-perfect smiles from atop a Homecoming float. But not me - there are papers to be written, books to be read and articles and datasets and analyses all clamoring for attention. I'm too busy to think or eat, let alone give 10 seconds to Wildcat spirit. In fact, I'm too busy to be writing this column.

It wasn't always this way. In the days before term papers or weighted pair-group centroids (don't even ask), November was a lot of fun. Shortening days, chilly evenings, pumpkin pie, turkey - in short, there was hardly anything not to like. Things have been on the wane for a long time. November's appeal probably peaked somewhere around the time making Pilgrim hats out of construction paper dropped out of the academic curriculum - but even in high school things weren't so bad. I didn't care much about Homecoming then, either, but at least I could stop to smell the crisp air and enjoy the changing seasons.

Now, however, the month between Halloween and my birthday in early December is so busy I can scarcely stop to remember what I'm rushing around doing. It's work, work and more work: a semester's worth of built-up information rushing like a tidal wave towards its inevitable conclusion. I feel like a swimmer thrashing frantically just in front of the crest of that wave, helplessly bobbing along but struggling desperately to avoid getting too banged up when I finally smash into the beach. It's endless - a dull throb of ceaseless panic underlying everything, tainting even those moments when I've had enough and finally resolve to take a break. (I'm good at taking breaks · maybe that's part of the problem.)

Remember when Thanksgiving was a real holiday? Well, not anymore. Now it's just long enough to disrupt the carefully crafted routine of class-work-study-class, but too short to offer more than a tantalizing mirage of relaxation. If you're crazy enough to actually leave town for Turkey Day, the mayhem of air travel or the monotony of hours on the highway will probably be enough to make you crazier than you were when you started.

I like school, and for the most part I'm pretty good at it. I wouldn't be in graduate school if I wasn't. But it's nearly impossible to avoid feeling swamped this time of year - the endless leap-frogging from project to project to exam to project drags down even the toughest. I find myself savoring even the tiniest escapes from the pressure. A trip to the grocery feels like a trip to Disneyland.

I know I'm not the only one who feels like this. With the exception of those blithe fun-seekers Slip-and-Sliding on the mall as if it were the middle of July, nearly everyone seems a little rushed these days - a little frayed around the edges. Bags under the eyes are everywhere, along with nervous, tapping feet, chewed erasers and all the other telltale signs.

Besides dropping out and heading for Rocky Point with a case of Pacifico and some SPF-30, what can we do to combat the November nightmares?

Fortunately, there are lots of ideas; stress is more and more pervasive in these hectic, uncertain days, and a good-sized cottage industry has sprung up to offer advice on controlling it. A quick search online turned up dozens of possible solutions. HealthCentral.com's solutions are pretty typical: start exercising regularly. Start eating better. Take time for hobbies and personal interests. Or my personal favorite: go on a mini-retreat.

See? It's easy. Once you put down the McDonalds and prepare a nutritious meal every night, start going to the gym three times a week and knit Christmas scarves for yourself and everyone in your family, you'll feel great. Simple, right? Just drop a few classes, or school altogether, and you should have almost enough time for all this.

While solutions like these might be a good way to start preparing for stress six months from now, they don't offer much for immediate anxiety. (I have a few personal solutions. Most involving dropping chairs, appliances or large fruits and vegetables from three or four stories, but I can't really recommend them, either - well, I suppose I can. Just be safe and stay out of Police Beat, OK?)

Fortunately, there are things to do. Go for a walk now and then. Make a to-do list and stick to it. Take lots of deep breaths. Get some sleep now and then, even if it seems like you don't have time. And above all, keep your head up. November may be a monster, but December's not that far away.