Just Keep Studying (to the tune of "finding Nemo"

A box sits alone on my dresser.  I do not know what is in it and find myself too lazy and uninterested to go and figure out what it carries.  Does this mean that I have lost my inner child? Or does it mean that my primitive instincts of conserving energy have began to kick in?  I mean- I have been studying for exams for eternity.  It makes sense for me not to care what is in the little box.  It makes sense for me to not care about anything except the questions on the coming exam.  But I find the secret inside the box distracting.  A metaphor for my life perhaps?  It seems that the barrier of busy studying could possibly be my goals in life- to succeed in athletics and academics.  The box could be perhaps love.  I tilt my head back towards my notes, trying to block out these literary thoughts that are evading on my strictly mathematical mind.  Perhaps I am too disciplined?  That box is simply annoying me by being a mystery.  I still have not opened it thus completing my metaphor for the box symbolizing love.  Because instead of opening it I write about it.