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Ask yourself something: How are you making use of those few invaluable serenely quiet moments in a week?

Moments with no distractions, no phones, no friends checking in on you to see if you’re still alive after last night. Moments where it’s just you, a tube, some spit and your thoughts. For those of you who frequent a relaxing tube spit, I’m sure this advice will simply be a whimsical rehashing of what you, my saliva-happy friends, already know.

But this article is for those of you that treat your weekly COVID-19 test as a chore that comes with a reminder in the form of a doomsday email. These are precious moments you’re throwing out as though they were useless rubber bands. Instead, cherish those rubber bands and make a fun ball. Listen up.

Let’s run through your current spit test routine. You walk into the Dome, dressed like you stole your outfit off the dollar store mannequin. You traipse down the line, racked with guilt for not making an appointment yet again despite knowing exactly when you were coming and get your table assignment: 11. “OK,” you think, “not as high as 12, but not as low as 10. We can work with that.”

You answer a few questions, grab your designated saliva vessel and head to a booth for a quick spit session. You think to yourself that you may just have the best salivary glands of anyone you know, immediately retract the thought when you walk out and see the guy in the next booth one-spit the whole tube, drop your spit off to be closely examined and leave. That’s what you do.

You might as well be a Tesla, because you were moving on autopilot that whole time. You believe what you’ve done is taken your weekly spit test with Buddy Boeheim-like efficiency (meaning above-average but not elite). What you’ve actually done is wasted the potential for beautiful, unadulterated thought.

We have to take the spit test every week. You and I both should commit to using that time more effectively. We should use that time to ponder things, ask questions about life, consider how we got there, where we’re going and why Nick is taking two hours to respond to our Snapchats even though he really seemed interested. In the interest of getting us started, I took the liberty of preparing a list of things we all could stand to ponder while we’re spitting in a tube:

• Why do they force me to face my SUID photo towards them? Do they want me to forget my own face?
• What’s the SECOND best Journey song?
• If another pandemic comes along, one more resistant to testing, what substance will they have to test next?
• Will they start testing my sweat? Does it have to be hard workout sweat or can it be putting-this-sweater-on-was-a-mistake sweat?
• Did Waldo ever wash that shirt?
• Is the girl in the next booth flirting with me? I thought I saw the curtain move.
• Why are we here? Why are we still doing this? Why can’t people just wear their masks? Not saying I wear my mask, but I feel like it’s really more on other people than it is on me. I’m just one person, they’re all the other people.
• Why is my spit foamy and bubble-filled? Is it carbonated? Is this Dr. Pepper’s testing method?
• Seriously, I think the girl in the next booth is definitely flirting with me, she keeps messing with the curtain. I should go say hi.
• Nope. That was a possum. How did a possum get in here? Should I still give it my number?
• That possum just ripped up my phone number. Damn.

This collection of sporadic thoughts, my friends, is just the tip of the iceberg. You may not like a few of these thoughts, you may believe you’d never think any of them, but the point still stands. Your weekly COVID-19 test is only a chore if you let it be. Use that time, explore the cavernous expanse of your mind, and don’t just go through the motions. Next time you spit in a tube, make sure to ponder something — anything — as long as it’s not whether a possum will appreciate your phone number or not. The answer to that is a definitive no.

Eliot Fish is a senior television, radio, film major who writes the humor column for The Daily Orange. He can be found at ebfish@syr.edu or trying to befriend a possum who has no interest in being his friend.

Published on March 24, 2021 at 9:09 pm