Throughout your Centre career, you will most likely be subjected to the absolute hell that is the 8 a.m. class. Personally, I was assigned an 8 a.m. every Tuesday/Thursday my first semester, and I vowed to never take one again because of how much I HATE getting up early.
Then, one fateful day last spring, I was forced to sign up for an 8 a.m. every Monday/Wednesday/Friday for this semester, and I knew that happiness would be a foreign concept this fall.
First, at 7 a.m., your alarm goes off and you are violently ripped from whatever dream you were having about a paradise in which you did not have to get out of bed at 7 a.m..
Then you have to attempt to get ready for the day in the dark while your roommate sleeps peacefully in her bed, mocking you and your terrible schedule. Luckily, you have a friend who also has an 8 a.m., so you make her text you to ensure that you don't sleep through class. Better to suffer together than alone, right?
On your way to class you see people you know, and they all cheerily tell you "Good morning!" You internally wince and smile and nod back to them, but don't say it back because you refuse to even admit that there is such a thing possible as a "good morning." But then you get to class and your professor tells you "good morning," and you have to force the words back through your teeth despite your deep moral objection to small talk before noon.
Your professor hands out a pop reading quiz for which you are less than prepared because you decided to paint your nails last night instead of doing the reading. But, hey, at least you can take the quiz with a fresh manicure, right?
After the quiz that you probably flubbed, you drink the last sip of your coffee and realize that no matter how much caffeine you drink, you will always be tired in your 8 a.m., even if you go to bed at 8 a.m.
So you sit there and try to take relevant notes, knowing that the only way to stay awake is probably to daydream about something interesting. However, you can't daydream because the professor could call on you at any moment for an answer. So, you force yourself to look very alert, interested and prepared when the professor looks in your direction.
Then your eyes start doing that thing where the only thing you can do to keep them open is to cross them, so on top of being sleepy you also can't see to write. At this point, if you were called on, you'd probably look something like this:
But all the time, you persevere because even though you don't want to, you have to allow the knowledge and light of learning to enter your life even though such a thing should be illegal to shove in your face at 8 a.m.
Every class period, the battle to stay awake and alert becomes more and more difficult as the adrenaline of the first couple weeks wears off, and the semester just slowly tumbles downhill from there.
I think the moral of the story is to never take another 8 a.m. if I can help it. If you're a morning person, then I suppose 8 a.m. classes would be fine. I, however, am practically nocturnal. So, if I ever end up needing to take another 8 a.m., you know I'll be turning up at the registrar's office like this:
