7:28 a.m.
we tip-tap on our respective keyboards through the night, waiting for the dull light to peek thorough the Syracuse-grey clouds, indicating a new day. Zerina and I are seasoned veterans of the infamous college All-Nighter. with practice, they weren’t as bad as the movies and anecdotes threatened. it’s all about timing, really; the spacing of the 20 minute (pre-REM) or 90 minute (full REM) naps. if the workload proved too steep to fit in any form of sleep, the appropriate caffeine intake becomes vital, because jitters are distracting and sleep defeats the purpose.
this particular night is special—it takes place before the last day of classes, preceding my British Semester Abroad, the first semester that Zerina would be without her study partner and stay-awake Nazi. we are especially giddy, knowing full well that after tonight, our work would be done and we would have all of winter break to laze around, save a minor burden of eight hour shifts or mom-requested chores.
the giggling is at first unstoppable, muffled with pillows and sweatshirts so as not to wake our third roommate in the next room. serious work is more of a 2am thing. we goof off until then, knowing full well that our time could be much more academically spent, and the sleep that was once a fair possibility becomes less and less plausible. it doesn’t make sense at all, but when Zerina and I agree to stay up all night, “burning the midnight oil”, we joke in pretentious accents, we use the agreement as an excuse for our exceptionally-skilled procrastination.
a few more delirious guffaws fade into sighs, then the rhythm of the finger-to-keyboard contact silences our ridiculousness. we work steadily, not at all longing for sleep but still wishing to be finished. I look up to stretch after three impressively productive hours, expecting gray but finding beauty. I whisper to Zerina, because normal volume would shatter the moment. a light pink floods into our window, pushed forth by an underlying layer of burning orange, both held up by the deepest hue of purple. the combination of colors is overwhelming, and Zerina and I stare, wide-eyed at the contrast to the usual monotonous grey.
it is a profound moment, a perfect ending. the semester had been the most academically challenging—a complete test of will, tenacity and spirit. Life has a funny way of keeping balance though, and while I struggled through my studies, I picked up the greatest friends from all corners of the university—sorority girls, fraternity boys, English majors, pre-med students, transfers, athletes, and some that can only stand as their own category. I held drama at arms length, and tried to leave traces of laughter and love everywhere I went. if there were feelings of doubt or regret about my choice of school last year, they were all gone by this past September.
