Admittedly, Global Politics in the Twentieth Century has never treated you particularly well.
Your lecturer is about as interesting as grass growing, the readings are low quality scans of book pages with the tiniest font and absolutely no line spacing, and any friends i had in that class in the beginning of the semester dropped out of it by the time mid-September rolled around, leaving you trapped due to societal pressures and a History and Politics general education requirement you still have yet to finish.
But, of all the things I could imagine Global Politics in the Twentieth Century doing to you, like charging you an exorbitant $200 dollars for a textbook you would never open anyway, burning your house down, or even straight up just murdering you, this is by far the worst.
It's bad enough that your final for Global Politics in the Twentieth Century is on the last possible day for finals at the latest possible time, but when the clock strikes 8:00PM and I have just about fucking had it with this semester, I realize that no one else is standing up.
This panic intensifies as I begin thinking of all of the terrible things that could be the reasoning behind this: you're just the dumbass who finished their final first and got all of the questions wrong, the clocks have yet to adjust to daylight savings and you think that it's 8:00PM when really it's 7:00PM, or, worst of all, your final is running overtime.
I have only ever heard of horror stories about overtime finals. Things like having to cram the next three-hour final into one hour, or having to reschedule the final to some other time that is equally as conflicting. Stuff that is, to a normal human being, a minor to moderate inconvenience at best (and to an overdramatic college student—pure, unadulterated hell), but when this is the last final on the last day at the latest time, there are no other finals to be had. No other school-related scheduling conflicts barreling into you.
It's just your luck, really, that on the last day of the semester, at the latest time you are allowed to be here, Global Politics in the Twentieth Century would come back to bite you in the ass one last time. As if all the times you dozed off in class (or just plain skipped), forgot to turn in your reading analyses, and showed up late to your recitation are finally catching up to you. Like the very worst kind of karma that could ever befall.
Well, to be fair, it's not as if the rest of the day has treated you any better. The entire time i've been awake on this fine December day has been an absolute trash can of the day.
This is how the beginning of your very last day of the semester played out 😞✌
The finals day
My alarm went off at 8:00AM sharp, purposefully set that early so you could wake up and have a productive day studying before your final at 6:00PM.
as usual i hit the snooze and ended up waking up around 11:33AM.
Like a potato i scrambled out of bed very inelegantly and attempted to get your life together before noon so you could at least have six hours worth of a productive study day before your final.
You remembered that you hadn't packed yet, so i spent the next hour frantically stuffing your belongings into the singular carry-on sized suitcase meant to last you through your month-long winter break.
my ass also realized that you hadn't done your laundry for the week (well, week and 6 days...), and i obviously want to bring clean clothes back home so i spend the next two hours doing your laundry and finishing up your packing.
By the time you finally managed to get the time to study, the panic had fully nestled itself into your bones, so you could not focus and spent the next three hours staring at your study guide and praying that osmosis would kick in so you could actually retain information.
I left to go to your final five minutes later than you should have and then ran across campus with absolutely no dignity left in order to get there on time.
I arrived at my final just in time, only for there to be technical difficulties with printing the exam because your professor is a procrastinator, just like you are 😳.
The next thirty minutes were then spent contacting the IT department, attempting to fix the printer, having to go print in another building, and then coming back with the final exam to a room of aggravated students who thought that they would be thirty-minutes into the exam by now.
you are taking the final exam. It's stupid difficult and you're absolutely going to tank it.
me watching as the final runs overtime for about half an hour...me watching as the final runs overtime for about an hour...me watching as the final runs overtime for about an hour and a half.
concentrate dahyun!
And on your very last day of the fall semester, my final runs overtime by two whole hours because of some mystic force determined to ruin your life, and my flight heading back home took off fifteen minutes ago.
I know, it could be worse. I could have failed all of my classes. Instead, I paid an exorbitant $500 to miss your flight, fail your Global Politics in the Twentieth Century final, and end up trapped on campus for all of winter break because i don't have the money to buy another plane ticket at such late notice (or at all).
So, it could be worse.
I trudge out of my final exam room and try not to burst into tears on your way back to your dormitory. Barely anybody is left on campus now that finals are officially over, but i still want to save that last shred of dignity. As i was walking down the pathway, i begin to feel wet splotches on your face. For a moment, i think that they are fat tears rolling down your face, but as i look at the cobblestone beneath your feet and realize that instead, it's raining.
The perfect weather to match your mood, if i was being honest.
Not wanting to get caught in a downpour, i end up taking refuge in the coffee shop connected to the art building on campus. It's a genius business design, if i say so myself, because there is no one more dependent on caffeine than sleep-deprived, eyebag-laden art students. Surprisingly enough, there are still people behind the counter bustling around, so i use the last of your university dollars to order a peppermint hot chocolate to warm your insides ,but not your cold, dead soul.
leave me alone
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
From there, I take a quick detour to explore the art building, a building you have, admittedly, never really taken much of a look at. It must be empty now, with everyone off campus—except you, of course—which gives you the perfect opportunity to wallow in peace while admiring art.
Walking inside, I stare at my ugly reflection in the enormous glass walls. Look at your tired eyes, slouched shoulders, lips pressed thin, and hands warmed only by the heat of your cardboard coffee cup. Count each acne mark and hair out of place. It's almost like you're watching yourself as you look in the mirror, a third person standing in the background. The audience.
Like the person who's looking back at you isn't you at all.
