We’re officially at the halfway point of the semester. Congrats, you’ve (hopefully) managed to keep your mediocre GPA unscathed and still intact up to this point (shout-out to Quizlet). However, the academic gods aren’t going to let you coast by that easily. It’s time for the dreaded midterms, and college students everywhere are arriving at the sudden realization that they’re hysterically underprepared. Stress is high and sleep is practically nonexistent for all the slackers attempting to cram ten chapters of Microbiology into one weekend. Here’s what a timeline of midterm anxiety looks like for a typical student.
Friday – 8:00 a.m.
Chad shows up twenty minutes late for his lecture and awkwardly attempts to find an empty seat. Eventually, he sits down next to a girl who’s aggressively highlighting pages in her textbook. The alternating multi-colored lines remind him of streaks of Tekashi69’s hair. To his left, a guy is flipping through a rolodex of flashcards he created. The professor reminds everyone about the midterm on Monday, but Chad isn’t paying him any mind. Instead, his attention is focused on the cute blonde in the front who’s under-dressed for 50-degree weather.
Anxiety level: -3/10
Saturday – 11:00 a.m.
Chad wakes up and momentarily stares at the giant flag on his bedroom door that reads “Spillage Is Lickage.” He’s filled with excitement as he remembers there’s a huge rager tonight at his fraternity house. While hopping out of bed, he stubs his toe on a still-encased-in-cellophane U.S. History textbook. The thought of studying for his midterm quickly enters his mind. I mean, this exam does count for 40 percent of his final grade. Chad could squeeze in some solid study hours before the party. Suddenly, his iPhone starts vibrating. His buddy Brad texted him, inviting him out to a tailgate. So much for studying.
Anxiety level: 2/10
Sunday – 1:00 p.m.
Chad wakes up inside a bathtub at his fraternity house. Everyone is passed out, but the pungent scent of unflavored Burnett’s still lingers in the air. After navigating through a maze of bodies, Chad calls an Uber and heads back to his apartment. As he walks into his bedroom, he’s greeted by his U.S. History textbook staring right back at him. He knows that studying for the midterm has to be his top priority today; no more dicking around. The only problem is that he’s violently hungover. Chad grabs a bottle of Pedialyte from his mini fridge and chugs it in record time. He decides to take a power nap before he starts hittin’ the books.
Anxiety level: 5/10
Sunday – 9:00 p.m.
Chad naps for way longer than intended, waking up eight hours later. Still groggy, he grabs his U.S. History textbook and binder of notes. After taking a hit from his JUUL, he gets down to business. It doesn’t take him long to realize that he has no fucking clue what to study. The midterm covers literally half of the textbook, and Chad has only been to three lectures total thus far. He looks at his notes and discovers pages of illegible hieroglyphics he scribbled while half asleep. Chad is in panic mode as he turns to Wikipedia for an 800-word synopsis of two centuries of American history.
Anxiety level: 8/10
Monday – 8:00 a.m.
Chad is freaking out. The professor passes out the Scantrons and rolls out a wheelbarrow full of test booklets that resemble blank encyclopedias. Chad grabs his materials and takes a deep breath. “Maybe this won’t be as bad as I’m anticipating,” he thinks. “I mean, the questions could be really simple and just cover general information anyone would know.”
He opens the test and looks at the first question: “What did the Founding Fathers have for breakfast the day they signed the Declaration of Independence?”
Fuck, this is about to be brutal. RIP to Chad’s GPA.
Anxiety level: 98,476,748,929,834,735/10.