It is to be expected that many people romanticize the beginning of the school year: leaves turning color; a hint of wood smoke in the air; “sweater weather;” Barbour season; fall sports; a fresh start (this year I’m really going to get my GPA where it’s supposed to be); the excitement of a brand new syllabus–not yet tarnished by incomplete assignments or assignments simply not done, handed out as one gets whiffs of the timeless scent of wooden lecture hall floors baking in the afternoon sun; and, perhaps Fall’s most redeeming quality, seeing friends you’ve waited three months to reunite with.

For some, however, the new academic year is more difficult to accept. Abstractions become realities, and one must go through all the emails one left unopened during the summer. For these people, Autumn is not so much it’s own season, but, rather, an undesirable side effect of summer’s passing. One might call this sensation, which lasts an indefinite length of time depending on the person, The Wellesley Blues.

The Wellesley Blues do not require a cyclic musical form or a walking bass, much less the backdrop of a smoky bar, though such elements would certainly be improvements. No, the Wellesley Blues can be heard in a variety of forms, from September until May, on the lawns and in the corridors of Wellesley College.

The Wellesley Blues might manifest as follows:

(Only some of these Blues are limited to Wellesley College–most are felt by students across the country)

The Back to School Blues (general dissatisfaction with the start of the academic year)

The I’m on The Waiting List for Professor X’s Class Blues

The I Don’t Remember How to Write an Essay Blues

The Grade Deflation Blues

The PSET Blues

The I Missed The Winter Session Application Deadline Blues

The Dining Hall Blues

The My Roommate and I Are Not Compatible Blues

The Patriarchy Blues

The My Alarm Didn’t Go Off, I Swear, Blues

The Harvard Asshole Blues

The It’s Ten Degrees Outside and I’ve Convinced Myself That I Can’t Begin Studying Until I’ve Had Starbucks Blues

The My Phone Is Dead So I Can’t Listen to Music on The Way to Class Blues

The Boston Is Boring Blues

The But I Have to Go to Boston to Get Bubble Tea Blues

The It’s Listed And I’m Not on The List Blues

The My Roommate Disapproves of My Marijuana Habit Blues

The Our Ridiculously Accomplished Alumna Lost the Election to a Psychotic Bigot Blues