(two ER trips, one case of Flu-A (not related to ER trips), worst period cramps I’ve had in YEARS, sudden worsening of new symptom: passing the fuck out constantly, and about a million small emotional breakdowns because FUCK.)

-> hears ma meilleure ennemie playing from a friend’s phone

-> I look it up on Spotify later having remembered it was by Stromae

-> “ohhh it’s from the arcane soundtrack. I think a know a few songs from that this year” (bc skz/top)

-> looks up scene for it in show (mistake)

-> I get invested (re: I cry despite having no context???)

-> I watch more scenes

-> I cry

-> stumbles into Jayvik as a concept

-> I LITERALLY HAVE FINALS NEXT WEEK WHAT AM I DOING

-> now I’m crying to like five different songs from the same soundtrack and reading fic for couples from a show I’ve never actually seen

American culture doesn’t have an official name for this time (though maybe Dead Week will catch on), but we celebrate it all the same, by eating cheese and cake for breakfast, getting drunk at inappropriate hours, not looking at calendars or clocks, forgetting what day it is, wearing outfits that make no sense, ignoring our phones, and falling into a pointless internet rabbit hole for hours. Lots of people have either just returned from family visits or are still there, stuck in the half-familiarity of being an adult in the spaces of childhood. We celebrate Dead Week by having no idea what to do during Dead Week and, within that confusion, quietly luxuriating in what might be the only collective chance for deep rest all year.

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