Everyone said they’d be so bad, but I don’t see what all the fuss is about. 9 a.m.’s allow you to get a significant chunk of work out of the way bright and early. I mean, how productive are you really going to be after a poorly scheduled club meeting in the evening? Also, 9 a.m.’s are the first step to clubbing all your classes in back-to-back order to avoid those unproductive one hour and 15 minute spells. Seriously, that is not enough time to do quality studying or (more importantly) take a good nap.
Another reason I appreciated 9 a.m.’s was that I had an excuse to duck out of those late evening PSET sessions with friends — you have to sleep in order to adequately focus in class the next day. Plus, more sleep equals more brain power in the morning, so I can actually make a good impression on my TFs.
Even though I’m not a morning person myself, I always had a quiet dining hall to look forward to during breakfast, to sleepily contemplate the day ahead, or get a table to myself to work. No one saw me that one time I broke a bowl, and I got to see the lovely face of my 9 a.m. friends to brighten up the rest of the day. Being an international student means juggling time differences, and the morning is always the best time for me to be online or catch up with family and friends via telephone.
I already feel my lack of 9 a.m.’s this semester acutely somewhere deep down in my soul. This semester will be passed in mourning as I try to finish my work in the glow of the 9 a.m. sunlight.
Hate It: “9 a.m.’s make me feel like death why do they exist, again?” by Kiana Ziadkhanpour
I thought I could handle them. I had woken up every morning at 6:20 a.m. for the past four years, so I naively believed that I could deal with waking at 8 a.m. on a daily basis. Week by week, I found myself waking up later and later, dragging myself to class — the quality of outfits and critical thinking skills dropping with the temperature. Sure, it was nice to have an important obligation (class) to wake me up on a daily basis, but the amounting pain (hunger) of inevitably missing breakfast each morning set a bad tone for the day, especially on Thursdays when I had class back-to-back from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. After last semester, I promised myself I would do everything possible to avoid another 9 a.m., but with the new schedules increasing the frequency of early morning classes and my sections and lab times increasing, I knew my chances were slim. Amazingly, though, my earliest class now starts at 10:30 a.m. (so grateful), leaving me ample time to have the most important meal of the day (pumpkin seed butter!).
Now though, even on cold and dreary mornings, I find myself waking up early (sometimes even before 8 a.m.!), and only rarely is it because of nightmares of missing class. Who would have thought that without the weight and pain associated with a 9 a.m., the idea of waking up doesn’t seem as difficult? Turns out that my hate of 9 a.m.s isn’t so much associated with the prospect of waking up early, but more so with being rushed and not having time to ~myself~ first thing in the morning.
So as we begin to settle into our classes for the semester, I am happy to say that I will be warm and cozy in my dorm, taking my time getting ready, or maybe getting an extra hour of sleep, while the world around me has to deal with the concept of 9 a.m.’s.