The Saga of Sleep Deprivation: Chapter 2. Continuous Internal Pains in the Neck

When I was a kid, I’d study about two hours every weekday, minus homework, and light reading. On Sundays, I’d do more. And it reflected on my grades. I obviously topped every exam, aka roadblocks to my light reading habits. It would be a question of how many revisions have you done. I remember in Grade six, I’d done about 10 revisions for a Science paper, and about 7 for English.
But then, of course, we had to grow up. The questions changed, the emotions changed. It turned from a question of how many revisions to how many chapters have you left. I turned from a nervous wreck to a sarcastic, annoyed person, who averaged at about two hours of sleep.
And how did college take this? Let’s see…
Me: I don’t have the time to study.
College: That’s cool. Let’s have more exams.
Professor A: Oh, more exams? How will I finish the portion?
Me: Reduce it, maybe?
Professor A: Good idea! Extra Lecture.

You’d think they gave us breaks. But no, what Professor A does doesn’t concern Professor B. Even if they are from the same department. The irony, you ask?
Sleep is a compulsory chapter to study. Disorders related to sleep consists of 40% of the syllabus. Some lectures eat into more than half the break. How we cope? Ah well. There are these little somethings called All Nighters.

I remember how I’d just finished my Summer School, and bid my friends bye. The moment I stepped into my house, my mother asked me when my first set of unit tests were. As a matter of fact, in a week I had a presentation for my Human Rights component. (Which, by the way, was again compulsory.)

As soon as that presentation got done, we started with back to back paper-pencil tests. Most of the days we had two tests, with an interval of 15 minutes. To say I almost coped up with my notes before these exams would be an overstatement.

Obviously there’s something called The Examiner’s Law of How Not To Set an Exam. The first postualate is: Thou shalt never ask questions from the modules the student has managed to study. Now, I look back and wonder how in the world had I passed.

And so the Continuous Internal Assessments beg- oh, they’re over? The way you fall asleep- slowly and then all at once. Life’s like an hourglass, the first half of the hour is spent writing/worrying about/studying for-dying because of exams. *annoyed expression*

Maybe if one of these days if I die, they’ll write: “She tried to study. But got distracted. Well, that’s that.”

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About TheBlackWallflower

I'm just your average unique person. I love to read and write (no surprises there, eh?) and think a lot. I adore Rowling and think Harry Potter should be a religion. I also hate pink. I love fluff generally because it makes me feel intelligent and I love poetry because it makes me feel different. (yes, references.) I'm married to Sirius Black. So I sign myself as The Bitch alarmingly often. Oh, and I love Mr. Darcy. And Jo Longo. And Chandler Bing. And Sherlock. (Yes, I'm a fantard.) And in case you want to drop in a good, or a critical word, feel free to email me: theblackwallflower@gmail.com OR, follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack Enough with the babble. OkBye. View all posts by TheBlackWallflower

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