Miss lots of class. Skip to sleep in, skip to get high, skip because you’re too high, skip because you’re hungover, skip to get drunk, skip because the teacher doesn’t take attendance, skip in spite of the fact the teacher takes attendance, skip because the sun is shining, skip because you can just look at the notes later, skip because it’s raining, skip because you’re doing homework for other classes, skip because finding parking would be too hectic, skip because it’s too cold to get out of bed, skip because you wanted to take a two-week thanksgiving vacation, & skip because, well, let’s be real, you don’t need a reason.
Come home from a two-week thanksgiving vacation to realize you have one week before finals.
Swear a lot.
Tear your room apart looking for those damned syllabi you got at the beginning of the year. Find them. Calculate your grades. Realize all your grades are fucking borderline. Calculate what you need to get on the final in order to get the grade you want. Fucking. Panic.
Smoke some weed to calm down. You do have an entire week…
Wonder why you do this to yourself every goddamn time. Promise yourself you’re actually going to study next semester because this ungodly amount of stress is surely taking a toll on your health.
Sustain yourself on burritos & coffee from the cafeteria. Feel gross.
Wear the same pair of pants (read: sweatpants) & oversized sweatshirt for the next four days. Feel gross.
Loudly express your displeasure at everyone in the library who’s having a better time than you. This may include, but is not limited to, anyone making that horrible rustling noise while eating, anyone leaving the library before midnight, & anyone laughing out loud. You’re trying to concentrate, god dammit.
Start to make friends with the overnight library janitors.
Buy overpriced adderall. Misplace &/or forget about said adderall until 9 pm. Spend the next 19 hours feeling sweaty, thirsty, & strung out.
Hear the announcement that the library is closing. Move to the 24 hour section. Ok, you’re not fucking around anymore.
Feel your eyes glaze over.
Consider pulling an all-nighter. Realize you’re not that desperate. This isn’t chemistry, after all.
Reconsider. Resolve to spend all night studying. Fall asleep hunched over in your cubby at 2 am.
Realize the sun has risen & the birds have woken up. Wish the birds would shut the fuck up.
Finish a final. Somehow manage to pull off an acceptable to mildly-impressive performance. Think to yourself, “X down, Y to go.” Repeat until you finish your last final. Practically skip all the way back to your car, visions of bong hits & pillows dancing in your head.