There is a very specific personality transformation that happens on campus during midterms and submission week. Suddenly, everyone is busy, everyone is important and everyone is walking around with the intense energy of someone who absolutely cannot be interrupted. Somewhere between your third iced coffee and the moment you open a blank Google Doc titled “essay_final_final”, we all enter what I like to call our Miranda Priestly era.
Yes, the terrifyingly composed editor-in-chief from The Devil Wears Prada who could silence an entire office with one look. The woman who says “that’s all” and somehow ends meetings, conversations, and probably entire careers. During midterms, every college student thinks they are channeling that exact energy. The only difference is that Miranda was running a fashion empire, and we are running on caffeine, panic, and the vague hope that our professor won’t notice we somehow messed up the assignment.
The Midterm Boss Era
Midterms unlock a very dramatic personality shift. You start speaking differently, your tone becomes serious, your walk becomes faster and your responses become short and efficient like you’re managing a team of assistants instead of a group chat full of equally confused friends.
Someone asks if you want to grab lunch and suddenly you respond like a corporate executive.
“I can’t today. I’m swamped.”
Swamped with what exactly? A 1500-word paper you started two hours ago, or 3 loads of unfinished laundry?
You begin using phrases like “I don’t have time for this,” or “I’ll look into it later,” which is a wild thing to say when the thing you need to look into is literally the reading you haven’t done yet.But the confidence is real. You sit in the library like you’re about to make life-changing decisions. You open your laptop in public spaces with the same intimidating energy that Miranda Priestly has when she walks into the Runway office. The only difference is that Miranda had assistants bringing her coffee. We are the assistants bringing ourselves coffee.
Caffeine, Chaos, and Collective Delusion
At some point during the week, caffeine becomes the real CEO of your life. Coffee, iced lattes, or energy drinks, whatever is available. Your entire schedule starts revolving around when you can get your next cup.
You convince yourself that you “work better under pressure,” which is just a polite way of saying “I procrastinated and now I’m panicking.” But the funniest part is that everyone else around you is doing the exact same thing. Campus starts to feel like a giant delusional bubble where everyone is pretending they are extremely organised and productive while they secretly have no idea what they’re doing.
You’ll see someone speed-walking across campus with a laptop and headphones and think, wow, they really have their life together. Meanwhile that person is probably googling, “how to write an essay in three hours.” The stress somehow creates this strange sense of importance. Like we are all extremely powerful people handling very serious responsibilities. Very Runway-office energy. Except instead of discussing fashion spreads like in The Devil Wears Prada, we are debating whether the word count includes the bibliography.
The Moment Reality Hits
Then comes the moment that humbles everyone. Usually late at night, when you open the assignment instructions properly for the first time. You reread the rubric and suddenly you realise you misunderstood the topic slightly, or the word count is much longer than expected, or you forgot to add references.
The same person who was walking around campus with Miranda Priestly confidence is now staring at the cursor thinking, I cannot do this.
But deadlines create urgency, and urgency creates adrenaline. Adrenaline can temporarily boost focus, confidence, and productivity. So for a brief window of time, you genuinely feel more capable than usual. It’s not fake. It’s just… temporary. Your brain is basically saying, “We are in danger. Let’s perform.” Unfortunately, the danger is just academic.
It’s a very humbling experience. Because as intimidating and powerful as Miranda was, she was also extremely prepared. Every detail was handled and every deadline was under control. Students, on the other hand, are mostly just figuring things out as we go. Our Miranda Priestly era is powered by adrenaline, not organisation.
The Crash After Submission
Nothing ends the illusion faster than the moment you finally submit the assignment. You upload the file, click submit and suddenly all the intensity disappears.
The boss energy? Gone. The productivity? Gone. The dramatic seriousness about life? Also gone.
You go from “important academic professional” to someone lying on their bed staring at the ceiling wondering what to do with their life now that the deadline is over. From corporate villain to blanket burrito watching comfort shows. It’s character development.
Yet somehow, every semester, we all fall into the exact same pattern again. Because midterms create this strange cinematic version of college life. The late-night study sessions, the dramatic complaints, the shared stress with friends, the feeling that everything is urgent and important.
For a few days, everyone on campus is walking around with the energy of a powerful editor-in-chief running a high-stakes operation. Everyone thinks they’re Miranda Priestly. Until the deadline hits.