There’s something strange about the last three weeks of the semester. Not bad, not good — just strange.
It’s the stretch of time when everything seems to speed up and slow down at the exact same time. You look at your planner and swear you had more time. You open Canvas and somehow there are twice as many assignments as you remember. You walk across campus and everyone looks exhausted in a way that unites the student body on a spiritual level.
If I’m being honest, it feels like a fever dream.
These weeks have their own atmosphere. The weather shifts, the days get shorter and the student population collectively swaps real outfits for hoodies, messy buns and the kind of sweatpants that say “I have accepted my fate.”
Group chats get quieter. Study rooms fill up earlier. Dining halls feel slightly more chaotic than usual. Every conversation starts with some variation of “How is the semester almost over?”
Even if you’ve kept up with everything, there’s still this odd pressure in the air — like the end is right there, but not quite close enough to touch. You can almost see the finish line, but you’re still wading through the last wave of deadlines before you can finally stop thinking about due dates.
As I try to get through it, I’ve found that the only way to stay somewhat grounded is to simplify. With so much happening all at once, it helps to break everything into moments instead of weeks. I’ve stopped pretending I can be a flawless productivity robot and have started focusing on whatever is directly in front of me. Sometimes that’s a discussion post. Sometimes it’s laundry. Sometimes it’s just getting to class on time when the weather is miserable.
I also try to create small points of normalcy in days that feel anything but normal. A consistent morning drink, a few minutes of cleaning my desk before I start studying or a dedicated window of time to check emails keeps things feeling less chaotic. These aren’t wellness strategies or expert-approved routines — just tiny rituals that remind me what day it is when everything starts to blur together.
Another unexpected thing that helps is embracing the ridiculousness of this whole period. I’ve started romanticizing the chaos in very unserious ways: making overdramatic playlists, treating every completed paragraph like a mic-drop moment or pretending I’m in a movie montage every time I walk into the library with my backpack half-zipped. It’s harmless, funny and makes the days feel lighter.
And honestly? Celebrating small wins has become the backbone of my sanity. Turning in an assignment early. Making it to an 8 a.m. when it’s freezing outside. Clearing two items off a to-do list. When the end of the semester feels enormous, the little victories somehow matter more than the big ones.
These weeks have reminded me that the end of the semester isn’t just about finishing assignments. It’s about realizing how far you’ve already come since week one. It’s about navigating the weird mix of exhaustion, pride and anticipation. It’s about managing the chaos even when everything feels slightly unreal.
And the best part? This fever dream doesn’t last forever. Winter break is waiting on the other side — the chance to finally sleep in, breathe and exist without a single deadline hovering overhead.
Until then, I’m taking it day by day, moment by moment, reminding myself that making it through this stretch — even messily — is an achievement on its own.