There's a significant divide in what my going-out friends identify me as and what my classmates would label me as. If you were asking the friends that I spend time at the bar with, responses might include: funny, outgoing, and confident. The fellow students that sit around me in the classroom would likely title me as serious, intimidating, and uptight. Quite the difference, huh?

For most of my life, I've worked the hardest I can at separating work and fun. I've worked to ensure limited overlap, whether it be not sitting next to friends in the classroom or giving a vague answer about test grades while at the dinner table with my sorority sisters. In the past few months, though, I've come to realize that this is nearly impossible.

These things have shown me there is no avoiding the divide between academia and life:

1. The party never stops.

The people that are most well-known for their wild partying typically don't tame these habits from Monday-Friday, both in the classroom and out. With more focus on which Tinder match they'll be spending the night with or which destination – the bar or the frat house – makes them more popular, these individuals forego effort for academics. With a seemingly never-ending hangover and a Tito's glaze covering their eyes, forget the quality of work. It's nonexistent. The disrespect that left a sour taste in your mouth while at the after party still doesn't seem to disappear. Even if it's displayed differently, disrespect is disrespect.

I think it's time for me to stop expecting adaptations of any kinds of behavior.

2. Forget and forgive? Sorry, I don't know her.

Remember this weekend when the girl you sit next to hooked up with the guy that sits in front of you? She knew you had your eyes on him. It seems as though anything that happens with liquor in the system is supposed to be immediately forgotten and forgiven as soon as the clock strikes eight o'clock on Monday morning. You tell yourself you'll be the bigger person and not even mention it. Little does she know, the tension in the classroom is rising and any other questionable act this girl has ever done in the past is now echoing at the forefront of your mind. You still don't mention it. You're here to keep the peace.

I think it's time for me to have respect for myself and to stop repressing these situations.

3. Good influence. Bad influence. It’s still a factor either way.

At the Friday night party, you happened to run into some classmates and joined them in a game of pong and even some other not-so-terrific decisions that carried throughout the night. Now you're all new best friends and have messed up the dynamic in the classroom. You used to be the quiet girl that got good grades, but now you're here sitting in the back of the class planning the next outing with them. You've seemed to lose any attention span and that A you were holding onto. Bad influence leads to bad decisions, and they're not just at the party.

I think it's time to start partying with the good influencers.

4. The apple don’t fall far.

Why don't my parents have more friends? They must be so lonely. I constantly thought about this throughout high school and my first few years of college. The beach bums and the keg-tapping fraternity brothers of my father's high school and college glory days still give my dad a ring every few months, but I always wondered why he doesn't join them for the regular Friday-night beer. My dad's a hard-working, overly devoted dentist with a wife and two grown kids. His friends…well, I can't say the same. My dad spends most of his time with his employees and fellow dental practitioners. His friend group consists of people with similar interests and similar work ethics.

I think it's time for me to adopt these #friendshipgoals.

So why does this matter? It matters to me and my future. What I've been trying to do for the past twenty years of my life in separating work and life has been a total waste. In fact, it's even left me practically friendless.

In the white-walled classrooms, I'm a nerd. Motivated. Dedicated. Determined. I strive for positive feedback, and nothing lets me down more than a bad grade or a teacher's disappointment. My most significant high is working hard, producing something I am proud of, and inspiring others to do the same – and I don't need any liquor or drugs for this. This achievement leaves me feeling good.

In the dingy, humid, and packed basements of the dorm, I'm a mess. Made Up. Tipsy. Messy. I strive for impressing others, and nothing lets me down more than not dancing with a hundred sweaty strangers or winning a game of pong. My most significant high is something I regret when I wake up the next morning. This achievement leaves me feeling worthless.

While there are many reasons I can think of to explain this type of behavior, I'm not ready to publicly share. Moving forward, I've promised myself to stay away from the party-inducing plague. Ultimately, it's not who I am. It's not even who I want to be. Now's my time to work on feeling good – diving into my academic passions, surrounding myself with fellow scholars, and accepting the facts about who I am.

All in all, I'm sorry to the "friends" I've strung along, and I'm even more sorry to the real friends I could've had.