When you're halfway done with the semester but you can't party because midterms.

When you’re halfway done with the semester but you can’t party because midterms.

Today is Midterm Day, the halfway point in the semester. To mark the occasion, Bwogger Ross Chapman is here to remind you that your situation could always be worse – at least when today is over, it’s over! 

Taylor Swift is the first person I hear in the morning. “The players gonna play, play, play,” she reminds me from my radio alarm as I push off the covers. 8:00 a.m. always feels too early for me, but I have to get ready. Two of my suitemates, however, are already up and about.

“Don’t forget your textbooks, ‘cause today’s a stressful one!”

“It’s always stressful, where are we, the situation room?” The espresso machine in their room seems to fuel their loud morning banter.

“But today’s especially important, you know why?”

“It’s Midterm Day!” they sing together excitedly as they put their bags together for breakfast.

Since we started living together sophomore year, my suitemates have been obsessed with Midterm Day. For some inexplicable reason, the academic calendar lists Thursday, October 20 as “Midterm Date,” the halfway point of the semester. We like to imagine that Columbia thinks that it’s the one day a year when we happily take all of our midterms. But for me… well, it feels true. I have three midterms today, starting at 8:40 and going straight through until 2:00. I brace for the hell that today will put me through.

To cut to the chase, the exams totally ruin me. While I do okay on the first one, I’m totally unprepared for the essay questions on the others. As I wonder how well I’ll have to do on the finals to make these grades up, my suitemates are in the middle of a celebration. Midterm Day, they argue is a perfect excuse for day drinking. They’re happy to be through, and I’d love to be happy for them, but Midterm Day was nothing but trouble. Why even bother to list it on that dumb calendar?

The rest of the day is a total blur. By the time midnight rolls around, my suitemates are out at a Midterm Day EC party they managed to arrange, but I’m ready for sleep. “Everything will be better tomorrow,” I remind myself.


Taylor Swift is the first person I hear the next morning. “The players gonna play, play, play,” she teaches. I turn to the alarm to turn it off, but something’s not right. I don’t have to wake up early on Fridays, so why is my alarm sounding at 8:00 a.m.? Frustrated, I punch the off button and try to get back to sleep.

“Don’t forget your textbooks, ‘cause today’s a stressful one!”

What the hell is going on.

“It’s always stressful, where are we, the situation room?”

My roommates are eccentric, but they’re not crazy.

“But today’s especially important, you know why?”

“It’s Midterm Day!”

In disbelief, I check my phone, and there it is. Thursday, October 20. But it must have just gotten its clock messed up in an update. I burst into the suite’s common area, only to see my friends packing their Thursday notebooks for class.

“Hey, Ross, are you as excited for Midterm Day as we are?” one of them asks. “We even got an EC suite to host a Midterm Day party!”

I can’t think of the words to express my disbelief, instead choosing to slink back into my room. I must have just had a super realistic dream. Dizzy with sleep but rudely awakened by this crazy occurrence, I get ready for the day and head out to my first real midterm on Midterm Day.

To my total shock, the questions are exactly the same as I remember. But even as I recognize the questions, I can’t wrack my brain for the answers. The incredulity of everything makes it hard to concentrate. When I go off to my second midterm, I see the same essay question as I saw yesterday (or today). But I can’t remember what I wrote before, or how to make it better. Annoyed, I pump out a similarly crappy essay, and I do the same for my next midterm. Whatever crazy dream or hallucination I had put me in a funk for the day. What a stupid reason to do poorly on midterms.

When I get back to the suite, my friends are celebrating as they should be. Exhausted by today’s coincidences, I head right for my bed to take a nap.


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

This can’t be happening.

“Don’t forget your textbooks, ‘cause today’s a stressful one!”

This is madness.

“It’s always stressful, where are we, the situation room?”

I know what comes next.

“It’s Midterm Day!”

October 20 has rolled around again. In a sudden bout of confused rage, I throw my alarm at the wall. It doesn’t break, but it does quiet down. With no options in sight, I get ready for the Thursday, doing my best to remember the midterms of the last two days.

I sit down to the same exam for the third time, but the answers still aren’t coming to me. I have some horrible mental block. It happens again. It happens again. I come home. There’s a party. I sleep.


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

“Don’t forget your textbooks, ‘cause-“

“Shut up!” I yell through the wall at my suitemates.

“Why are you so angry, Ross? You should be happy. It’s Midterm Day!”

The fourth day is no better. My essays are getting further from the texts, and less comprehensively structured. Every hour of sleep I’ve gotten has felt like a minute. I bomb the next two midterms. I come home. There’s a party. I sleep.


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

“It’s Midterm Day!”

I don’t go to my first exam and try to study for the second. The words in the textbook blur together. I fail the second.

I fail the third. I come home. There’s a party. I sleep.


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

“It’s Midterm Day!”

I walk in my pajamas to Butler Library, unshowered. I take a random book off the shelves and sit down to read. As it opens, a black swarm of letters physically engulfs me.


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

“It’s Midterm Day!”

I open my door. Bright light rushes in. My body evaporates.


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

“It’s Midterm Day!”

I stay in bed. Nobody notices.


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

“It’s Midterm Day!”


“The players gonna play, play, play.”

“It’s Midterm Day!”

Studying and Staring into Your Soul via Dreamstime