Beat The Clock: day drinking, obscene amounts of plastic beer pitchers, and most importantly, cheap alcohol. $2 pitchers at 2 p.m., $3 pitchers at 3 p.m., and so on and so forth. Every campus has one, and although the bars and schools may differ across the country, the feelings of powering through the tribulation that is Beat The Clock remain universal throughout the college world.

Please note: I do not condone underage drinking. This is purely an article written for fun and based on the experiences and stories of students of the legal drinking age at Ohio State.

1. Waking up.

Oh God, oh God no. No way my alarm just went off. Noon already?? You could sleep for seven more hours probably. Your bed is so comfortable, the sun is so bright, your liver is SO sad. There's still alcohol in your system from the night before. Why must BTC start at 2 p.m.? That's just too early right now. Getting up is one thing. But getting up, looking presentable, and going to drink AGAIN when you already were doing so a mere 12 hours ago? How am I expected to do this? Am I becoming a grandma if this is difficult for me? No, be strong. You promised Mary and Ellen and Rachel and Lauren and Sarah and John and Max and Chris and Ben that you WOULD be there. Time to pep talk yourself. If Beyonce could release an entire album without anyone knowing, then you can make it to BTC. Get your lazy body out of this bed, use some dry shampoo, and suck it up. This is going to be fun and you deserve to have fun, damn it.

2. The excitement rises.

Heyyyyy, now that you're up this hangover isn't so bad. Nothing a little coffee and warm Natural Light can't fix. You know what, now that you're moving, the only thing you want to do right now is get there and start drinking profusely. What a fun thing to do in the early hours of this fine Friday/Saturday! Yeah, let's do it. You wanna go right now! Come on roomie, hurry up and get ready!

3. The awkward, sober arrival.

Unfortunately you're denied access at the door because you're not dressed in a throwback NBA jersey like all the other sick frat stars. So chill. Just kidding. You make it in, and oh no, the next test of endurance. Due to your sloth-like behavior earlier in the day, you've arrived a little late to the festivities, therefore everyone around you is already hammered. Oh Jesus, here comes Emily drunkenly running over to you to attack you with excitement. Oh good, she spilled beer all down your back mid-sloppy hug. Oh no this keeps happening, everyone around you is just as drunk as Emily. Suddenly you've never been more sober in your life. You painfully regret not pre-gaming. Must find bar ASAP.

Oh my God, it's so packed. You can't even hear yourself think. The beer spillage and frat jerseys surrounding you are clouding your every waking thought. Okay, you can do this. You're a small, cute girl. Maneuver your way through the large sweaty men and slither your way to the front of the line at the bar. Flirt if you have to. Twirl your hair. Do anything you can to make it to the Promised Land.

4. Ordering at the bar.

After strategically moving yourself through the sloppy drunk bodies, you have finally made it to the front line at the bar. You think you've won the battle at this point? Oh no, the battle has just begun, young one. Just because you're finally at the front, that doesn't mean your patient waiting is over. Not only is the waiting annoying, but what if you don't order before 3? That extra dollar per pitcher is really gonna start to add up and take a toll on your bank account. WHY DO THEY ONLY HAVE TWO BARTENDERS WORKING?! Could those taps be dripping out the beer any slower? Is this even worth it?

The best part is that every person that you even REMOTELY know is calling your name from the back of the line and waving you money like you're a stripper begging for you to order their pitchers too. No fricking way buddy, I fought for this beer. Aaaaand now the guy that you flirted with to get to the front has made his way next to you and continues to talk to you. So sober. Need. Pitchers. Now. Oh finally, the bartenders pointing at you. How many should you get for yourself? One? No, you have to play some major catch up. You can handle two. “Two pitchers, please."

5. The hydrating begins.

Okay, now the fun part starts. Finally. Let the chugging begin. Oh thank God, Max snagged a table. My hands were getting tired of holding both of these. You go girl, you earned this. You probably even burned a few calories standing in line for so long. Just remember to pace yourself; this is a lot of beer.

*45 minutes pass*

Okay wow, this escalated quickly. You already have had to pee twice and you're hugging everyone that you see just like Emily did earlier. You are Emily. You're definitely drunk. Nope, scratch that. You're more than drunk. You're hammered. At this rate, you might as well just keep going and get your money's worth. Why does this beer not taste bad anymore?

*2 hours pass*

Oh no, you've done it now. So much time has passed. Have you really been here for 3 and a half hours? Everyone around you is stumbling, cackling, spilling, dancing—oh wait, the dancing is just you. There is no more boundaries- everyone's pitchers have become fair game for everyone. Everyone is sharing willingly. Everyone is truly best friends with everyone. Your Snapchat story has probably reached at least 100 seconds and you probably also now have a selfie with every person within a 3 foot radius of you. You're happy and you've accomplished your goal. You set the bar high for yourself today, and you have done what you came to do.

Through all of the struggles and hardships you had to get through to get here, it's all worth it now. You're drunk and having the time of your life. No harm in that. Wait—you get a glimpse of the outside world, and you can't believe… it's light outside? Should you feel bad about this as a human? It's still light outside and you're very inebriated. Nah, I'm allowed. I feel great. I could climb a mountain right now. Okay, maybe not a mountain, but a small hill definitely. How did the bar even have enough beer to destroy this many people? I'm honestly impressed.

6. Pure exhaustion (and hunger) hits.

Uh oh. The final test. Your body has just all the sudden caught up with itself, and it most definitely thinks it is dying. You've hit a wall. Morale is low. You also realize all at once you were so concerned with getting to BTC on time that you didn't eat ANYTHING today and it's almost 5 p.m. So you are now officially falling apart at the seams. You need food. You need water. You need sleep. You're deathly hungover in the middle of the day; how are you supposed to feel about that as a person? Your perception of time is so skewed. Shouldn't it be like 10 p.m by now? What is happening?

You decide for the safety of you and everyone around you that you locate the nearest pizza shop, order a large cheese, sloppily eat the whole thing, then head on home. It's the right thing to do (as if the calories from the gallons of beer wasn't enough). As you re-enter the comfort of your own room, it's a miracle if you even get your shoes off let alone your makeup before hitting the pillow and inevitably passing out.

7. The reawakening

What….what happened? What time is it?? 10 p.m.? Oh, perfect. Time to get ready to go out tonight.