Hilltern–ing is a quintessential part of the Washington, D.C. college student experience. There is nothing quite like feeling disastrously out of place in business formal attire at an 8 am microeconomics lecture or the arduous trek from the GUTS Bus to the Rosslyn Metro due to Georgetown University’s glaring shortcomings in public transportation.
After filling out an obscene number of applications this summer, I was thrilled to land an internship and spend my semester on the Hill. I carefully built a nightmarish schedule (with two-and-a-half-hour block classes three nights a week) and underloaded with only 13 credits so that I could balance my schoolwork with my Hilltern duties. My planning was meticulous. If only GUExperience could’ve warned me about our gridlocked, hyperpolarized Congress.
The government shutdown and furloughs have left me with an almost comedic level of free time -– a sentence which has probably never before been uttered by a Georgetown student. Three days a week, having one or no classes at all, I’ve quickly grown tired of my downtime. Within the first week of shutdown, I finished all of my assignments for the next two weeks.
With an empty G-Cal and an even emptier heart, allow me to take you along through one of my many days of oblivion.
8 a.m.: Wake up. Take a workout class with friends.
This early of a wakeup is illogical. But my old schedule has conditioned me to be an early and active riser, and it imbues me with a desperately craved sense of faux-productivity.
10:30 a.m.: Shower. Tackle assignments in a coffee shop. Spend money I don’t have.
I have taken to unnecessarily long showers. I rinse, lather and contemplate Obamacare. At a new cafe each morning, I spend $9 on mediocre iced lattes. I grimace at the faces of baristas as they cheerily flip their iPads, guilting me into a 20% tip. I absentmindedly, halfheartedly work on assignments due in November.
1 p.m.: I remember this is D.C. — there’s a whole city to explore!
Before drowning in my despair, I resolve myself to do all the “touristy” things I’ve never quite gotten around to. Why don’t I check out the Smithsonian? The National Zoo? The National Gallery of Art? So many iconic landmarks! I begin my walk downtown before awkwardly suddenly reversing course halfway through. They are all closed.
3:30 p.m.: Retreat to my room, defeated.
I sluggishly return to LXR. My 12×16 dorm feels large and lonely in the absence of my roommate. Like any other 15-credit student with a normal schedule, she will be in class for several more hours. I despair. I scroll through Instagram Reels for hours.
6:30 p.m.: Time for class.
My long day of doing nothing has taken its toll on me. I am exhausted by the time I must trudge to the ICC for my 6:30 p.m. to 9 p.m. class: German Catholics in Hitler’s Army. I am yawning in a discussion entirely inappropriate for yawning.
9 p.m.: Good night, Georgetown.
Campus is pitch-black when I exit the ICC. I reflect on how the dim sky reflects my dim prospects. Disgruntled and unfulfilled, I ready myself for bed, mentally bracing for another day of unemployment.
To Republicans in Congress, I get it. Working families struggling with healthcare, underfunded public schools and the potential mass layoffs of federal workers just doesn’t move you. But I beg you, think of us — the Hillterns — trapped in a shutdown with nothing but soul-crushing boredom and increasingly dwindling pocket change. Surely that tugs at your arrhythmiatic heartstrings.
