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HUMOR

A day in the life of the only student who speaks in class

A professor asks a question. A sea of glazed stares looks back at him. There’s silence. Out of the despair, a hero emerges: a kid who will actually answer the freaking question. Here’s a day in the life of me, the girl who saves your sorry a**.

8 a.m.

I wake up, roll out of bed and immediately change into a sweatshirt and some comfy pants. If I’m going to be saving the day in all of my classes, I might as well be comfy.

8:07 a.m.

I make coffee number one of the day.

8:14 a.m.

Then, I say my affirmations in the mirror. “You are strong. You can get through this. Other people will answer questions. The world isn’t full of bots.”

8:30 a.m.

I am forced to confront disappointment when everyone is, in fact, a bot. My Spanish teacher looks at me with dead eyes. I am the only student who is actually responding in Spanish. We both ignore this fact.

10:00 a.m.

I take cleansing breaths and blast some Nicki Minaj to psych myself up for absolutely carrying another class. I imagine this is how gym bros feel while they lift heavy circles (weights).

11:50 a.m.

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I am forced to play both sides of an argument (awkward). The guy to my left, who has been losing badly for the last 15 minutes in a game of online poker gives me a weird look (not my fault you just lost your rent).

12:00 p.m.

I take a lunch break at Bell Tower. The perfunctory little “thank you” of the Grubhub robots boosts my morale and convinces me at least something on campus is speaking.

12:36 p.m.

I lock in at Armstrong so I can actually answer questions about the material. I listen to the song “Crashing out” on repeat—not an inaccurate representation of my mental status.

1:30 p.m.

I make coffee number two of the day.

2:50 p.m.

I go to my final class of the day. My poor professor looks concerned about the continued zombification of his students.

2:57 p.m.

Assistant editor Parker Green and I field the professor’s questions. We sit directly next to each other, so we look like a very strange bloc of engaged students. She gives me hope for humanity.

4:45 p.m.

I go back to my dorm and make coffee number three of the day. I am vibrating with caffeine shakes intensity, but I am not thinking about classes, so I call it a win.

5:50 p.m.

I take a dinner break and eat some soup to heal my throat from all my yapping. I’m shocked by the volume in the dining hall. Where do these people go during the day?

7:18 p.m.

I take a break from reading and have a debrief of my day with my roommate (the only time I’ll be using my voice outside of class or clubs).

11:45 p.m.

I cry into my pillow while I contemplate repeating the day tomorrow. 

mahones5@miamioh.edu 

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