A lot of us will think back to our college years with a smile intact. For about four years of our lives, we made friends and built relationships while simultaneously pursuing an education of our own desire.
Times were good.
Well, maybe as long as you forget about midterms. And finals. And presentations. And projects (including, but not limited to the “Group” kind).
Times weren’t always good.
Because at one time or another, your professor ended class with a quick reminder about the midterm you’d completely forgotten about.
Maybe you had plans to go out with some friends. Maybe you had plans to watch the entire last season of Gilmore Girls on Netflix in one day. Whatever they were, your focus is needed elsewhere. It’s time to study, so your professor says.
Per usual, you’ve spent literally zero minutes studying ahead of time. As always, you regret this. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and utter the following words to the procrastinator you’ve become:
But you can’t afford to spend too much time criticizing your flaws and mistakes. For the next 24 hours, your life is going to be solely focused on one thing
As you make your way through those PowerPoint slides, you realize something.
You notice the answer to a study question was only ever discussed in the lecture you deemed less important than a mid-afternoon nap, so you decide to reach out to your fellow Aztecs for some help through that dreadful mass email. Out of the 30 people in your section, nobody replies.
And of course your roommates don’t have a midterm the next day. They see how stressed you are and offer you an opportunity to relax and enjoy a couple of drinks. If you’re smart, you refuse.
Just before you feel you’ve had enough, the time comes. It’s time for your midterm. Your walk to class seems shorter, the minutes go by faster. You walk into the same room you’ve walked into all semester long, but this time it feels different. Real different. 
Your professor is standing next to the podium at the front of the class as you walk into the room. Logic would tell most people you’re having a bad day, but that doesn’t stop your professor from asking an empty-as-ever “How’s it going?” Your response is short. Your response is honest.
Professor What’s-Her-Name hands out the prompt, but you’re only half-sure about some of your answers. Like any good college student, you’re capable of B-S-ing your way through any exam. This time is no different.
But before you realize it, it’s over. You may not have answered each question perfectly, but you’ve nothing more to say. You walk up to turn in your blue book before turning around and seeing half of your classmates still struggling to fill the blank pages before them. Even though they didn’t help you, you can only wish them luck.
It’s been about a week since Judgment Day. You’re convinced things didn’t go very well when suddenly your phone vibrates — it’s an email from your professor notifying you that grades have been updated on Blackboard. You passed.
You’ve got about five more weeks before finals start, which can only mean one thing.
