In the Lion King-esque stampede of emotion that is registration, factors must be weighed. Is the professor good? Do you need the class? Will you hate yourself for taking at 6 PM class on a Friday? It’s tough, man. Real tough. However, in my experiences going to class when I find time, how you tackle a 12 o’clock class and an 8 o’clock class is totally different.
At 8: I hereby and officially challenge anybody reading this post to walk into an 8 AM class and fail to find at least one of the following: A girl. Hair tied up. Yoga pants. Sweatshirt (bonus points for a Gonzaga crew neck). Uggs (past the month of October). Starbucks in hand. If you ever have a class where you don’t see this, tell me and I’ll buy you a coffee or something. They’re everywhere.
At 12: Now you’re awake. And since fall is so weird weather-wise, it’s not 40 degrees anymore and now it feels like you’re standing on the sun. So you’ve ditched the sweats and now you have shorts and least wrinkly t-shirt on. Besides, you’re going to have to eat lunch soon, and you don’t wanna be that person in the BARC who looks legitimately homeless.
At 8: Almost everything out of your professor’s mouth is useless. You’re way off into a fantasy about being in your bed with clean sheets and covering yourself up like a human burrito. Smothered, of course. Don’t blame the professor though; they’re tired too. Really nobody is awake yet and you keep wondering why bad things happen to good people.
At 12: You’re up! And now you’re ready to learn. Your coffee has finally kicked in, there’s people moving around campus faster than The Walking Dead, and things are looking up. You’re finally realizing that you’re paying to go to class and learn things, so you might as well do that. You’re taking notes with more focus than an air traffic controller on Adderall, and you love it. Life is good. Things are going alright for you.
At 8: This. Sucks. You’re drawing pictures of penguins shooting fire into a city made up of gingerbread men just to stay awake. Instead of learning about the Principles of Finance like you’re supposed to, you’ve created a terrifying image that could actually be a pretty sweet tattoo idea. Nothing is getting retained. On the off chance that you DO actually take notes, you’re on autopilot so tough that the professor could be spouting off part of the Gettysburg address in Mandarin Chinese and you wouldn’t ask questions.
At 12: This is…actually pretty cool. Things make sense and seem relevant to you. Your elementary school librarian was right. Learning is cool. And if learning is cool, consider yourself Miles Davis.
4. Social interaction
At 8: This is one of the few times you’ll voluntarily ostracize yourself from everyone else. The sun is not your friend, the classroom is not your friend, and not even your friends are your friends. You keep to yourself unless someone’s on fire and also that person is you. Then you’d probably groggily ask someone to extinguish you before you die.
At 12: Move over Zac Efron in the High School Musical trilogy – there’s a new big man on campus. His name is you. You love everyone and everyone loves you back. You would no doubt tell someone if you were on fire now, and probably tell a lot more information. It’s like people are good or something. Then, of course, you see your friends and you can’t help but be like: