Contributor: Grace Sebulsky
Though not your typical article that you’ll see on this page, I do believe it reserves the right to be here. It’s a nice, crisp, early November morning as I write this; 2:40 AM to be specific, but who’s counting? That cliche, the early bird gets the worm or whatnot, well, it’s shame I don't like worms and it's a further shame that I don’t like being up early. But, that is the consequence of ignoring your assignments until a) the last minute before the deadline or b) a tab bit past the said deadline. Nevertheless, here is the day in the life of a first year Medical Sciences student.
My alarm rings at 8:05 and my first class, Calculus 1000, begins in 25 minutes. I scramble to find semi-weather appropriate attire, brush my hair and teeth, take a quick look in the mirror and remind myself that imposter syndrome will not get to me today. I grab the same muffin from the cafeteria that I always do and choke it down on my hike up UC hill, while also attempting not to burn myself with the terrible but necessary coffee. There was once a time when I tried to quit caffeine, but upon realizing that the withdrawal gave me the most vile, unforgiving headaches, I’ve returned and chosen to ignore the addiction-like symptoms. Upon listening to my calc professor drone on about questions I do not understand, nor will understand until the night before the final, I finish class and head to chemistry.
I take my seat at the front of the class, pretending to be a die-hard student, when really my refusal to wear my glasses has limited my seating arrangements in our lecture hall. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t dare “Bohr” you with what my prof covered, but I’ll have you know it had me questioning the sobriety of these 19th century chemists—their confusing theories as a potential result of improper lab safety measures and spilled chemicals. I diligently take my notes alongside my 600 fellow peers in the lecture, as we all pretend that what was said makes sense and will not require further review. In a rush to get to my next class, I join the ever growing line up the stairs, praying to God it will not take me ten minutes to leave.
My arrival to biology class, although on time, has me looking like a sweaty mess and once again, I drudge down the infinite flight of stairs in front of my seated classmates and sit in a seat where the letters on the board actually resemble letters. I prepare to take notes when NCB decides that its wifi needs the day off. Not to worry, I can write just as quickly as my professor talks, surely. May I suggest that lying to yourself about your own handwriting abilities does not bode well for your grades nor your cramping hand. Nonetheless, I pester those next to me for their notes, frantically apologize for my inability to be responsible, and prepare for an hour of utter confusion.
After three months of physics, it has been brought to my attention that whether I can see the board or not does not dictate my understanding of the subject. Far be it for me to be dramatic but, I have never felt rejection the same way rotational dynamics rejected me. Regardless of my attentiveness, note taking and/or tears during lectures, physics does not want me the same way I want physics. Fear not, my tutor, my saving grace, has allowed me to achieve passing grades thus far.
By 12:30 PM, I am done with my classes and I plan to seat myself in the lounge and devote whatever free time I have to understanding what went on today during lectures. One might assume that being done at 12:30 leaves me with plenty of time for my studies, and though this is hypothetically true, one must not also forget the fact that I possess the attention span of a goldfish. Despite being in the lounge for a solid six hours, it would be generous to say I achieved greater than three hours of work. Those three hours will certainly be rewarded with further time spent on my phone, mindlessly scrolling TikTok and then later pestering my floor mates for the most recent gossip. I will then have dinner, remind myself to go to bed early tonight and drink some water, and then promptly do the opposite.
With another cup of coffee, my horrendously ugly pyjamas, and my laptop, I once again seat myself in the lounge and attempt to accomplish some work. As with any Medical Science student, the workload never really decreases and thus, it’s once again 1:30 AM and my to-do list has grown rather than diminished. Nevermind that, tomorrow is a new day and I’m sure it will be significantly more productive. Though this has yet to happen, I remain hopeful of the day it does. By 2:00AM I succumb to my slumber, dreaming of the day I wake up fully rested. Stay tuned for another “day in my life”, but with a third year. Perhaps, their lives differ.