Hour by hour: an all nighter in the Sydney Jones

It happens before every single deadline: you’ve spent the whole week telling yourself you have plenty of time and, as if by magic, you’re 24 hours away from hand in and your essay looks remarkably like a blank word document. There’s only one answer.

11pm:

It’s decided. You haven’t finished the essay. It’s due tomorrow and the only solution is an all nighter, but that’s okay. You’re feeling confident, prepared and ready for this shit to be submitted. You emerge from Smithdown Asda (thank god for 24 hour opening) cradling Red Bull, sugary snacks and a bag of crisps. It’s time to head to the Sydney Jones. Your only company is a blanket.

That time again

12am:

Little progress has been made, the last hour has effectively been spent drinking Red Bull and attempting to eat crisps really quietly whilst basking in regret. You’ve also tweeted “ugh all nighter, here we go! #wishmeluck” which is nine more words than you’ve written yet for this essay.

1am:

Your mind is wandering…who’s that guy sitting opposite me and how do I find him on Facebook? I wonder if he’s tagged in any of Baa Bar’s photos. Wait is he on my course? Shall I drop my pen and casually kick it towards him? Maybe he’s on tinder, if I swipe enough I might find him. After a lot of swiping, and not much work you surrender your phone to your bag.  

2am:

Finally! A solid hour of work done, time to reward yourself with 15 minutes on Facebook… which will eventually turn into an hour. You’ve started a twitter campaign to find #FitSJBoy.

3am:

You’re moving from Grove Wing to Abercromby Wing, a change of scenery is needed and too many people around you have spotted the tears in your eyes. The trek up the stairs will wake you up, right?

4am:

You’ve hit the 1500 word mark, you’re half way through. You can do this. It’s only been five hours. 

5am:

Every so often your head hits the desk and you question whether you actually need this degree. There’s probably a job available in one of the 48 Subways that have just opened on campus – okay three is a more accurate figure but its 5am and your brain is too fuzzy to count. Or you could run for president as it appears anyone can make it with little intelligence needed.

6am:

*yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn*, did I just drool a little? Nobody saw that, did they? Maybe a power nap on the second floor sofas would be a good idea.

7am:

You’ve reached the point of talking to yourself “I can’t do this.” You say, out loud. “My brain doesn’t work, I can’t remember how to spell my own name and I don’t understand how I got to this point in my life.” It’s almost as though you can actually feel your brain melting if you sit still enough. You may not understand the point of this essay but you’ve gained a  thorough understanding of why sleep is so essential. You’ll never neglect it or take it for advantage again. Well, until next week when you leave that other essay until last minute because who actually learns from their mistakes?

8am:

Do they even read the references properly? (Sad, V., Off, F., I want to drop out of uni, 2016, p.254)

9am:

Submitted. You have a lecture but unless someone is waiting outside for you with injectable caffeine and a bag of MDMA it’s never going to happen. It’s time to go home, collapse into bed and sleep until 3pm.