You Asked for It: In which we learn to clean and regret our trip to ShondaLand

Drew Goins (an anagram of “Wiser Dong”) and Kelsey Weekman (“Weakens Meekly”) are “You Asked for It,” a column in which the two experts give you their rarely helpful advice. Results may vary.

You: I wanted to take a nap in the Undergraduate Library between classes today, but all of my secret nap spots were taken. What’s a tired Tar Heel to do?

YAFI: After the end of midterms, everyone is worn down. And it’s not like fall break helps because no matter how many times you say, “Good, relaxing! Yours?” when asked how your break was, it won’t change the fact that you spent your break catching up on your Shonda rather than your sleep.

For the inventive Tar Heel, however, sleep is not the only option for recharging. A healthy snack can be a great boost. Stock up on deep-fried 5-hour Energy at the state fair this year; the caffeine will give you the push, and the added calories will keep you from crashing.

Descending into a half-conscious stupor is also viable. Research has probably shown that humans are capable of the technique dolphins use to rest one-half of the brain at a time. Shut down to 50 percent at times when you need the least brainpower — during meals, television and COMM 120: Introduction to Interpersonal Communication.

You: How do I get my child housemate to clean up after herself?

YAFI: Unless you want to be scraping up dead cat with a spatula at the end of the semester a la “Hoarding: Buried Alive,” you’ve gotta stop this behavior.

The best course of action is to do the mature thing and leave passive-aggressive sticky notes on household items reminding the housemate about chores.

Make sure the instructions behind the passive-aggression are easy to understand — “Empty me!” for the dishwasher, “Who wants to take me out?” for the trash and “I ain’t gonna flush myself!” for Winston, the goldfish your housemate neglected until it died in its own filth.

Revolt by throwing a massive party and not cleaning up after yourself. Include a fortress of red Solo cups, human roombas and Chi Psi’s illegally domesticated kangaroo.

If all else fails, sit her down like the dad in a ’90s sitcom and tell her like it is: She needs to clean up for the sake of the family ... and boy-girl parties are trouble.