A Procrastinator’s Tale: How I Almost Failed My Midterms

It was late, far later than I had intended it to be. Trudging my way back to my dorm room, the only thing that was running through my mind was everything that I had to do for this upcoming week. It was midterms, so I can’t say that I was surprised that I was busy, but still, this was ridiculous.

Two papers and three tests to study for, and all in the few weeks before spring break. I knew that I should study, but my thoughts kept turning to the constantly improving weather and the plans I had made with my friends, none of which involved any actual working.

Ordinarily, at least in high school, I had always been a good, productive student. I worked hard, I definitely earned my grades. College, I had thought, would be a piece of cake. I knew it was going to be harder, and so I knew I’d have to work harder. What I hadn’t expected was that, while it was harder, it allowed me some freedom I hadn’t had before. Classes weren’t mandatory; my entire grade was on me.

I had thought that this wouldn’t be a problem, I was self-motivated, and as an extra incentive, I needed the scholarships that the school was providing me with.  I thought that would be enough to keep me motivated. Evidently, this was not the case.  I found the hours slipping away,  becoming increasingly devoted to my Facebook page, even when I could see the unopened textbooks sitting right next to me,  practically begging me to get my hundreds of dollars’ worth out of them.  I had begun to slack, pure and simple.

And I needed to fix that.

I sat down in my room, glancing forlornly at my clock. It was already past midnight, and my first class was at 8. Technically speaking, I didn’t have anything due for it, no reason to stay up later than I already was. Plus, wouldn’t I study better when I was awake, and fully functioning? Yes, of course I would. I thought that there wouldn’t be any use in studying something that I was too tired to even look at. I shrugged at my books, and slid into bed.

The next morning was a nightmare. At least, I had hoped it was.  Absolutely nothing went right. I was late for class, a pop quiz of all things; the printer was jammed, so I  didn’t turn in my assignment for my next class, and by the time I got back to my room, I still had all my assignments left, and one less day to do it. This was ridiculous. I didn’t even need these classes; they weren’t relevant to my major at all. I didn’t even care about the 1500’s view on the universe, or whatever my assignment was.

But I did care. I cared about staying here, and that was what really mattered, wasn’t it? There was only a few weeks left in the semester, and I could tough it out, wasn’t that what mattered? Everyone had to take some classes they didn’t like, and if you failed them, you’d only take them again.  Better to tough it up now than take the whole thing again? Wasn’t it?

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The other me, surely the much more studious of the two of us, answered, yes.

Queue textbooks, I thought. It’s going to be a long night.

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Stefanie Hughes

Stefanie Hughes

Stefanie Hughes is a senior at Benedictine University, with a double major in Writing & Publishing and Theology. She spends her free time working on Benedictine’s newspaper, The Candor, as well as being a member of Daughters of Isabella, Students for Life, and helping around University Ministry. Any other extra time is filled with reading, writing, cooking, video editing, biking or walking around the lake.

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