Recently, I’ve stumbled upon many, many TikTok videos of college students reciting every possible thing that could go wrong in their day — nightmarish lists from UChicago and UC Berkeley students were especially memorable. But as entertaining as they were, it was mildly terrifying that they had actually lived through such an excruciating day.
Curious as to how that would look at my school, I set out to craft the worst possible “day from hell” at Saratoga High (inspired by my own experiences, of course). Given that I’ve had to endure select parts of this day in my own Saratogan life, it’s safe to say this day would not be a pleasant memory.
Here’s how it would look:
The day would start the night before — or should I say the morning of, since clearly you were up past midnight, studying far too late for your impending Chemistry test. Finally, eyes fluttering shut every time you glance at your study guide, you decide to call it quits at 3 a.m with your brain squeezed dry. You realize it’s too late to shower, so you go to bed with oily hair.
You set an alarm for 7 a.m. in hopes of getting some last-minute cram studying in, but you’re too sleep-deprived from last night so you miss your alarm and wake up at 8:05 a.m. — just a sweet 10 minutes before you’re supposed to leave the house.
You rush through your morning routine, taking a sad bite out of a cold, hard-boiled egg, tripping and falling while trying to dash to the front door and grabbing your phone hastily — all while stuffing your backpack into the passenger seat.
Starting up the car, you realize there’s mist all over the windshield, so you’re delayed by two whole, very-crucial minutes in the front yard as your windows defrost. As you wait impatiently, you try connecting your Bluetooth to break the silence, only to find out your phone has 3% of its battery remaining; you hadn’t charged it overnight. What was the point of bringing your phone anyway? It can only serve as extra weight in your backpack.
Finally, the car is defrosted, but it’s already 8:22 a.m. (you were supposed to leave at 8:15 and 8:20 at the latest). You drive through the Golden Triangle as fast as possible without speeding.
Just two turns in, as you near a four-way stop sign, there’s a huge truck preparing to turn into your exact path. To your dismay, they are now in front of you. Gone are Saratoga’s rolling green hills — in its place is a metal frame glaring down at you.
You tap your foot in irritation because the truck is going 10 mph in a 25 mph zone, delaying your already-late arrival time. You helplessly eye the time on the digital car screen. The drive is silent and depressing without music.
With arduous effort (and definitely suspicious driving), you get to school at 8:29 a.m. All the parking spots in the second row are taken, so you park far back in the third row. Sprinting through the parking lot, you hear the bell go off as you set foot into the quad. Your running ceases — there’s no point in rushing now, you’re already late.
You make it to your first period class at 8:32 a.m. It’s Spanish, and there’s an open-book test that day. Whoops, you forgot it at home. You frantically borrow one from the teacher; at that point, you’ve already lost five minutes of test-taking time.
You make it through the test, guessing a few multiple-choice questions here and there, but now you’re onto bigger worries. You totally forget that MOSAIC is scheduled today to steal almost all of your precious tutorial that you were counting on, and you lose your final one-hour cram session before you head to math class.
One Calculus test later, you’re exhausted as you heave yourself to the lunch line. Of course, the lunch is terrible — there’s only mac and cheese and pasta, both of which you don’t like, so you just opt for an apple instead. To make matters worse, you stepped into a puddle of bright-red pasta sauce as you exited the cafeteria.
When you get back to the lunch table, mentally preparing for the upcoming Socratic seminar in English and praying the few bites of an apple were sufficient, you peer into your backpack only to realize mid-lunch that you left your all-important copy of “The Great Gatsby” at home.
You race to the parking lot, drive home and drive back. You’re starving because you sacrificed your lunch time, and your energy is in the negatives before the discussion even starts. A mere 30 seconds before the bell, you find your seat in the Socratic circle. That was a close one.
But… the Socratic goes badly. Your brain is jumbled from the hectic lunch, the apple’s fuel has long since run out, and it’s your third exam that day. Luck just isn’t on your side.
Home at last after a long day at school, your first instinct is to treat yourself to a bowl of ramen. Surprise (or not), there’s none left, and your house is emptier than your head. Settling on a healthier meal, you stuff yourself with whole-wheat bread, plop onto the bed and knock out instantly. For three whole hours.
At least you got a good nap — there’s one positive thing that came out of your bad day. You don’t feel any more refreshed, though, because you’re simply catching up on sleep debt. Fortunately, though, you feel assured no day could live up to this catastrophe. Could it?
