"My walk of shame"
Tuesday morning. It was a typical morning after a night of late partying. I awoke somewhat groggily and sat up in bed. But something was definitely wrong. Something was out of place. I slowly looked off to my right, and that's when I saw it. The thing every college guy dreads seeing when he gets out of bed every morning. I stared in frightened disbelief, but no matter how many times I rubbed my eyes, the clock still read: "7:30."
Also, there was some girl I didn't know in the other direction, but that's a story for another column.
A lot of people are probably wondering why I'm taking an 8:00 class. What was I thinking when I was scheduling? Was I a little drunk when I registered? Could all the good classes have had boyfriends and I desperately just grabbed the first available one I saw? Or had I foolishly tried to get over an old class that hurt me by picking some random class to spend the lonely semester with?
To answer your question, I got stuck with it. This particular class is one I need for my particular major. I suppose I could have just switched majors, but I dreaded the conversation I'd eventually be having with my parents. "No, I switched out of that major. Why? I needed two more hours of sleep."
The alarm clock is the first obstacle to actually making it to class. There is a button to turn it off, a button to get five more minutes, and various other buttons to change the time. The problem is, after pressing any of these buttons, you still have no obligation to actually wake up.
A good technique is to put your alarm clock as far from your bed as you can, at the end of a treacherous maze if possible. It's better to have to get up and walk around a bit before turning it off. Sure, nine times out of ten, you'll still just fall asleep standing next to it. But at least having the clock beyond arm's length is going to keep you from taking wild swings at it with your eyes closed like it's some kind of beeping piñata.
Besides it being expensive to replace your alarm clock daily, the candy inside is not all that great.
Once you've managed to get on your feet, try and get to class as quickly as humanly possible. Because every second you're in your room is a second you are just a few feet from your bed. A good tip is to run to your shower and let an icy cold blast of water spray in your face for a few seconds. While it won't help you any in getting to class, it will make me laugh, which is nearly as good.
For the purposes of speediness, don't make a big deal about what clothes you change into, if you bother to change at all. In an hour, when the class has ended, you'll just be sleeping in the clothes again. Though maybe I'm over-generalizing here. A few of you may choose to stay up for the rest of the day. And I can't forget about the group who won't even be waiting for the end of class to get back to sleep.
And you're out the door. There's something almost romantic about walking to class as the sun is rising. As those first golden rays of light break over the horizon, you can see nature in all its glory. And in that one moment, as tears well up in your eyes from the sheer beauty of it all, you can't help but think, "I wish I was dead."
This is your "academic walk of shame." That stroll to an early class where you are on display to all the joggers, people going to work, and people who are finally on their way to sleep from the night before. It's a humiliating experience. Luckily, you're probably asleep on your feet by this point, so it's not like you'll remember any of it.
But after all is said and done, you've made it to class. Though there is no actual reward, convincing yourself to be awake at an hour that God never meant for man to gaze upon (i.e. before 11:00) is quite a moral victory. The college student who fights his own nature just to further his education. That man is a hero. Unless, of course, no one told you the first Tuesday of classes were running on a Friday class schedule.
Then you're just the dumbass standing in an empty classroom at eight in the morning.