Caffeine for the Soul

Reverse Psychology

Maria should've expected the sheet of white as she exited the dorm, but it still surprised her every time. The swatch of central Pennsylvania, like a miniature snow belt, always attracted a flurry, and often more during the initial months of spring semester.

She welcomed it today for its practicality. Maria toiled over the orbital mechanics problem for hours. Eraser shavings littered her desk late into the early morning hours as evidence of the effort devoted to placing the hypothetical spacecraft into geostationary orbit around the Earth.

Trudging across campus, she reprimanded herself for scheduling an eight o'clock class during her final semester. The crystalline structures pelted the exposed skin on her cheeks, each one providing a dose of virtual caffeine, helping to eliminate the effects of sleep deprivation.

Psychology 101. It was her last elective, and Maria procrastinated as long as possible to satisfy the requirement. She had no interest in this course material. She preferred the exact computations of math to the ambiguity of the arts. It didn't help she subjected herself to this boredom before having an opportunity to consume her morning coffee.

She replayed the calculations ingrained in her head. She would have a few hours to revise the numbers, if needed, before delivering the proposal to her advisor. It was all she dreamed of since witnessing her first rocket launch as a child. To launch her own. She would be one step closer with a successful project showcasing her mathematical prowess to industry leaders.

As the professor began his lecture amid the four hundred students seated in the auditorium, Maria tuned out, scribbling numbers and equations in the margin of her notebook. Today's session covered the psychology of yawns. Just the thought made her want to engage in one at that moment.

She peered down three rows and over seventeen seats. He was there as usual, the reason she faithfully attended this early class each day. He wasn't overly attractive, but there was something subtly charming about him. She never had the courage to say hello or ask his name.

The professor continued on, there was proof yawns were contagious. But, the degree to which it spread was related to the social fondness between the two parties involved. And, it was completely involuntary.

Whether it was her lack of sleep or some psychological effect, Maria peered at the boy who had no name and yawned. As he happened to be gazing in her direction, he smiled faintly before breaking into a return yawn of his own.

In that instant, Maria forgot about launching rockets and felt compelled to focus on fireworks of a different variety. She didn't know his name, not yet, but she figured that would soon change. She was surprised by the snow and certainly confounded by this moment of serendipity.

Maybe she could reverse her negative predispositions toward the liberal arts, if only for a bit. Maria smiled to herself as she allowed the psychology to work its magic.