5 minutes to freedom
You frantically jot down the last bit of information you can salvage before the projector screen goes black. (Funny how professors always seem to be staring straight at you and your frazzled appearance as they exit out of that one Powerpoint slide containing the answer to the hardest question on the upcoming exam. The power trip is cruel.)
You’re still working on the notes, though every second your brain starts to mix up what you thought you memorized with what is a complete fabrication of your sleep-deprived, Netflix-filled mind. No wonder your notes end up reading the exact opposite of what is correct. There goes another exam point.
You absentmindedly calculate that if you’re down two points after every class period that takes place before the midterm/final, you will essentially be shooting for a D- come exam day. Quarter-life crisis ensues.
You come to terms with the fact that your career lies in a fast-food restaurant, when the teacher asks a question that “may or may not be on the exam, so don’t leave yet.”
Your stomach begins to grumble, but while there is still hope in your future, you make a last ditch effort at paying attention….
End of Class (according to SIS, that is)
.…to no avail. Just after the minute hand moves, your brain shuts off. You continue to stare at the professor but soon realize that the words coming out of his mouth are a mix of Pig Latin, Java and Shakespeare.
1 minute after
Your mind turns to more important issues—dinner plans—though the professor drudges on about electrical potential in an axon, or some other fantastical mechanism that either points to the intelligence of the human race or the workings of a drug addict who called himself a scientist and managed to convince the world of his theories.
2 minutes after
Still contemplating the food—it’s a tough decision. “Almost as hard as the exam will be,” you think to yourself. “Still, dinner at the dining hall doesn’t start until 5 p.m., so there might be a stray Pop-Tart at the bottom of my backpack to hold me over. Then again, I did hear something about free Chipotle at some club meeting I could pretend to be interested in, but that would mean giving up on my diet, so maybe the apple at Grab-It is the best option? Screw it, I’m getting Jolly.”
3 minutes after
The teacher has finally stopped talking and you can now fully pack up without feeling guilty about not trying to maintain some semblance of attention. “Oh hey, there’s that Pop-Tart!”
4 minutes after
You stand up to leave just to find you’re a mess and in need of a quick tidy-up. After tying a shoe, zipping up a pocket, finding your hundred-dollar calculator under the seat and pulling out a sweater just in case there’s a breeze, you’re finally ready to head out. The Jolly Scholar awaits.
5 minutes after
You sneak a peek at your phone and see the date. “Wait, wait, wait, is it Tuesday?” You suddenly recall you have another class on the opposite side of campus in now 10 minutes’ time. What’s more, it’s quiz day and you forgot to study, since of course you thought it was Thursday…. Not surprising, really, given that each class runs 5 minutes later than intended. Humph.