Have you ever heard those horror stories about student’s schedules going out of control because of uncontrollable events, and the poor student being squashed with an overload of work that has the student doing all of his/ her classes in one night?
Well I have, and I never really thought that they were true horror stories until it happened to me this weekend.
It was a crisp Thursday. The skies were partly cloudy, and the leaves were just starting to fall, which really made it feel like the first day of fall, which due to the craziness of Indiana weather, this is sometimes a rarity (I’m surprised it wasn’t 90 degrees and snowing).
Thursdays are a treasure on campus. For most students, the odds of having more than one class is unlikely. I have two classes, but I still can’t complain as most days I have at least four of my five classes.
I had just finished my classes and escaped to the library (one of my favorite places on campus) to embark on my studying for two of my first exams. The first 30 minutes of studying went great, it was the rest of the day and weekend that turned into the worst weekend ever.
It all started with an email from my mom saying that there was something wrong and that if I could, I should make it my mission to come home. My immediate reaction was yes, of course, I would come home. If my family needed me, then I should be there. That’s what family is for.
Then it dawned on me, I had loads of homework, several tests to study for, a thesis to write and a blog post. How would I do all this? I didn’t think I’d get it all done, but I did because I wanted to. In my opinion, pure determination is key to almost any solution.
Flash forward to Sunday night, two hours after I had just came back from my home and only a fraction into my homework that was due the next day. I knew I would have to pull an almost all-nighter, and I was not feeling it. The thought of staying up until an hour before my classes started exhausted me, but I made a list, drank some coffee (okay, lots of coffee) and went to work.
The all-nighter experience is something that I never want to do again (though I hear it calling me in the distance — finals anybody?) and would highly discourage it at all costs, but I still keep thinking that it could have been 10 times worse if I had not talked to my professors, which is what I did Friday morning.
I met with them and told them what was happening and asked a couple of them if it would be possible to delay handing in my paper until Tuesday, etc. Thankfully, they agreed, and I managed to finish everything else in the wee hours of Monday morning.
If I hadn’t taken the time to talk to talk to my professors I know I would have been in a lot of trouble, and the week would have been unlivable. (Bottom line: always ask. It usually can’t hurt you)
My worst nightmare, as of this moment, would be for a situation like this to happen again, but if it does, I know what to do. Even though it is hard and all-nighters are not fun at all, at least I know how to study at 3 a.m., and that my professors are there for me when I need them.