I shouldn't do my calculus homework because it's Isaac Newton's birthday.

Dedication: I would like to take a short moment to express my gratitude to Hoda Sayegh, without whom this post would not have happened.

A couple days ago, a friend and I went to a cafe, whipped out our identical calculus textbooks and proceeded to jump into the abyss of mathematical knowledge (with a velocity of v(t) = -19t - 1923 ft/sec and an acceleration of a(t) = -32 ft/sec^2, calculate the displacement on the time interval of [0, 12]. Go ahead, I dare you). At the beginning of our epic journey to mathematical supremacy, we eagerly traded off new ideas and (wrong) answers. She would ask for the answer of the question she had worked on with hopeful eyes; I would return the gaze while enunciating the answer in a hushed yet clear voice; she would inevitably frown. Repeat.

Needless to say, our enthusiasm was contagious. People all around us flocked with alacrity towards other tables far, far away. It was now nearing the medieval period of our calculus era. The early excitement was wearing off and something less than friendly had begun to settle in. It reared its ugly head around problem number 19. Instead of hopeful looks, we exchanged barely concealed grimaces, and as if those weren't enough, we began to grind our teeth. We were like two angry bulls on a rampage.

My friend had a better temperament than I did, and in her wiseness, she stood up and walked towards the counter to order a cup of tea. I trudged on, much like General Sherman through South Carolina. I demolished the resistance in problem number twenty-one, set fire to a particular tricky one in the thirties, and decidedly practiced total-war (total-calculator) techniques against number fifty-nine. All in vain. By the time my friend returned to the cafe table, she found me in hysterics.

She tentatively patted me on the back and promptly started laughing. I glowered with no avail. After [2(401) + 5 - 207]/60 minutes later, we returned to our original goal, accompanied with groans of misery and wails of helplessness.

The intent of this post, sadly, is not to be an answer sheet for calculus homework, past or present, nor is this a testament to the conquering power of friendship. Although I suppose if you read it sideways and squint, there might be something hidden in here. Really though, I would much rather you spend that time doing your calculus homework.

P.S. Don't forget to round to three decimal places!