The Perfect Place to Study

I sit at my dorm room desk and stare at a map of colonial Africa. From the crack under my door a host of distractions beckon: a dance party in the bathroom, a movie in the room across the hall, a trip to get hamburgers, and a game of Ultimate Frisbee.


The smell of burnt popcorn and fresh baked cookies assail my nose. My stomach gurgles in response. A snack would taste yummy, but would only make studying harder.

My roommate turns on the TV. Of course, Wipeout. The big red balls toss ordinary people like acrobats, twisting and turning into the waters below. It is one of the funniest shows I have ever seen. How am I supposed to get anything done now?

After a plethora of weak-willed attempts, a paper describing the decolonization of Ghana has proceeded no farther than a title. The blinking cursor flashes like a neon sign taunting me to chase it across the page with a torrent of words, but none will come.

It takes all my powers of refusal to pass up an opportunity to play ping pong. Instead, I gather my supplies and strike out on a quest to find a place where I can study.

I try the library. I sit at a desk with walls on three sides, immediately eliminating any potential for visual distraction. This could work.

Twenty other students study around me. I can smell the remains of a portable dinner- Thai food from a doggie bag-mingling with the musk of old books.

Only the sound of air whizzing through a vent can be heard.

My ears ring with the silence.

It is intolerable.

Again, nothing is being accomplished.

I decided to move again, this time off campus to a coffee shop.

I walk through the doors and am greeted by delicious smells and cheerful baristas.

I purchase a cup of heaven covered in whip cream and sit at a table by the window. I situate my textbook and computer, sip my beverage, and try again.

My quest, it seems, has finally come to an end.

Baristas continue to brew coffee, crush ice in the blender, and steam milk. Other patrons talk quietly across the little tables. The unique white noise is louder than silence, quieter than my thoughts, and diverse enough to prevent a stalemate in my mind.

Trendy music flows through the room and unique artwork adorns the warmly painted walls. The ambiance surrounds me like a friend who knows me well enough to let me work in peace.

Distractions are limited. There is no TV, no friendly floor mates, no dance music and no flying discs. I do not need to worry about my laundry, my messy desk, my perpetually unmade bed or the constant stream of customers who remain outside of my sphere of interest.

Many of the people seated around me are reading, writing, knitting, and other such solitary activities. They focus only on what it is they are doing. I am inspired to do the same and dedicate myself completely to the task at hand.

Time slips past unnoticed. I easily become so absorbed in my studies that the “open” sign is turned to “closed” before I realize it is time to go.

If I am diligent in my work and finish before the sun has fully set, there is the opportunity to walk back to campus. I step out the door and find myself embraced by the crisp air. Colorful leaves crunch underfoot. Cozy houses line the street, and occasionally the smell of a homemade dinner will drift from a kitchen window, teasing my palate with its garlic scent.

Feeling like a conquering hero, I return from my quest ready to socialize. My assignment is finished, and the brisk stroll in the fresh air has chased away the heavy, intellectual thoughts that had previously consumed my mind.

In the future, should I be confronted with a monumental task, or menial writing assignment, I intend to skip the foreplay and go directly to a coffee shop, where success is assured.


(written for my journalism class as my first column)