How To Be A College Student: Sundays | The Odyssey Online
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Politics and Activism

How To Be A College Student: Sundays

Do them the right way with this handy guide.

How To Be A College Student: Sundays
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The sun has just risen, and you jolt awake. Your alarm clock says it’s 7 a.m. The first step to having a successful Sunday is waking up at a decent hour. At this point, you should hydrate yourself after a long night of drinking cheap liquor and/or consuming a shameful amount of sodium rich snacks by guzzling a filterless Brita full of water. After successfully hydrating yourself, you’ll likely find yourself exhausted. That’s perfect because the next plan of action is hopping back into bed. I mean, it’s seven in the morning! Get yourself back in bed -- you deserve it!

When you regain consciousness, it’s bright outside. Look at your alarm clock. It says one o’clock in the afternoon. How is that possible?! You frantically check your phone. Wait. You forgot about Daylight Savings. Cursing under your breath, you change the time on your clock. No worries because this is all still going according to plan. The next step after figuring out what time it truly is making your way to the bathroom. Simultaneously check your notifications. Wow, everyone else’s Saturday seemed way more eventful than yours. But, hey, at least you didn’t vomit on a stranger. (Or maybe you did. That’s OK too.) Next step: narrowly avoid dropping your phone in the toilet. Make Ramen to celebrate! Add a poached egg to love yourself.

It’s now 2:24 p.m. Clear a little space on your mess of a table and sit down to enjoy your meal. At this point, get on Facebook and watch Food Network’s cooking videos. A little bit of Emeril. A bit of Ina Garten. It’ll be great. Fantasize about corned beef and cabbage and shepherd's pie. Oh no, you shouldn’t have had hot soup. Now you’re sleepy. You look out the window. Well, it’s still bright outside, so you decide to take a nap. A little sleep can’t hurt.

You wake up. It’s now 3:30. You make a list of everything you need done by Monday at nine. Oh dear god, it’s a lot. Throw yourself out of bed to collect all your supplies and start working. You find yourself needing to Google something, so you take your phone out. Whoops, you open Facebook instead. Now, read an article about American authoritarianism. Wow, this is crazy. You close the article, but then see something your friend shares about mass bee extinction. Great, now you’re even more worried. You wonder which will kill us first, but now your mom’s calling. As the well-behaved offspring you are, you must answer. Hey ma, how are you? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Oh no, she’s rambling, and you have so much work to do. She asks if what you’ve had for lunch. “Oh, just some ramen,” you reply. What about dinner. Dinner? You look at the time. It’s 7. Now you’re in trouble. You frantically say bye and try to write a paper. You’re doing pretty well. You’re a paragraph in. Good. 7:20, making good time, when suddenly, you wake up on top of all your work. Your laptop has drool on it. It’s 9. You are so screwed. Wow. How did this happen?! When did you even fall asleep?

After this inevitability, amp yourself up to some Beyoncé and get to typing. It’s now 10 and the paper’s done, but it’s awful. It’s for a Monday class, though, so your professor probably expects it. There’s nothing wrong with being expectedly mediocre. You’re about to get started on a big life drawing project also due tomorrow when, like clockwork, your roommate throws open your door asking if you want to go out to a late dinner. No, you think, but your stomach rumbles. Ok, yes, you’ll go out to dinner, but only for an hour. Set a deadline for yourself. Be back by 11, sharp.

By the time you come back, it’s way later than you expect. Your roommate wanted to stop to talk to everyone in the street, and she couldn’t decide what to order. Now it’s midnight. At this point, you can hardly motivate yourself. Why even try? Not to worry, you will suddenly remember how much money you pay to go to this school. You’ve never worked so aggressively in your life, and you hate yourself every second of it, berating yourself with every passing hour. When your body is thoroughly covered in charcoal, it’s 6 a.m. You suppose it’s finished. Does this look like six hours of work? You don’t know. You can’t even see it anymore, so you decide to get two hours of sleep. Bad idea. You wake up to the most offensive noise the world could produce. Your head is pounding. It’s Monday morning.

You sigh. Well, at least you’re still alive.

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