And before you know it, exams strike.
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP—the alarm clock goes off. It reads 6:30AM. I’ve never smashed the snooze button so fast in my entire life. Left inarguably-aggravated, perturbingly-aroused, and slightly-offended at my decision in setting the phone to max volume. Annoyed, but it worked. I’m up—kinda. Just can’t physically get out of bed. Marshmallow soft. Warm like hot cocoa (digs head into pillow). Heavy eyelids. So comfy. Won’t move. Then the alarm starts going off again. Louder than ever. Blaring. Crippling my thoughts. Assaulting my ears. A bitter rejuvenation. I’m awake now.
Damn. It’s early. Too early. Woke up mid-REM. Lingering in dreamland. Still fuzzy. Post-coffee, I realize I desperately need to finish studying. Cue the cathartic lies and self-deprecating humor. Nothing can save me now.
When I thought it couldn’t get any worse—with all the stress and distractions I forgot about the exam. Doors close in ten. Tick tock. I drop everything and run out the door. It’s dark and dreary. Stale and deserted. Fog-filled. Thick and eerie. A graveyard of undergraduates. Fashion terrorists. Just crawled out of their beds. Eyes bloodshot. Toothpaste and drool stains. Unresponsive. Barely alive. Emotionally-detached. Unhinged. Heavily-caffeinated and sleep-deprived. I’ll blend right in.
Cardigan: Club Monaco (similar here)
Pants: Club Monaco
Shoes: Comme des Garçons (similar here)
Photographer: Sarah Y