The mid-semester overconfidence syndrome :)

 Every semester, like clockwork, I experience what I now call the Mid-Semester Overconfidence Syndrome. It’s when you think you’ve got everything under control. You're attending classes (well, most of them), jotting down notes (in your head), and casually flipping through slides thinking, "This is manageable. I totally understand what’s happening."

Yeah. That.

So in my third year, when we got the syllabus document, I actually read it. Like, properly. And I had this sudden, powerful burst of clarity. Everything seemed... simple. Like “Oh, that’s it?” kind of simple. I even highlighted sections, wrote chapter names in my planner, and told myself I’d start early this time. I truly believed that Past Me was lazy and disorganised, but Present Me? I was a whole new era.

I even gave advice to my friends like some productivity guru. “Guys, it’s just six units. One unit per week and we’ll be done with time to revise!” I was that annoying motivational friend who doesn’t know they’re in a spiral of delusion. Everyone else looked at me like I was either brilliant or possessed.

Weeks passed. My planner looked full. I felt accomplished. But when someone would casually bring up a topic, I’d just nod vaguely and say, “Yeah, I think I saw that somewhere…” What I meant was I had read the title and convinced myself I knew what it was about.

The real wake-up call came a week before our exams. One of my classmates sent a screenshot of a topic saying, “Guys, this was asked last year. Important.” I squinted at it like it was written in Latin. I couldn’t remember seeing it anywhere in the material I’d pretended to understand.

So, like any rational student, I opened the syllabus PDF again. And guess what? There were eight units, not six.

Eight. Full. Units.

Two had been conveniently hiding on the second page, and I had just missed the scroll. My academic downfall was literally one swipe away.

Panic set in like a fog. I went into silent mode. No more advice-giving. No more planner flexing. I did the only thing I knew how to do in a crisis: I binge-studied like a gremlin who hadn't seen daylight in weeks. Google became my best friend, and YouTube professors my saviours. I even used terms like “I’ll just finish this unit in 45 minutes”(delusional till the end).

The internal didn’t go horribly, but it also didn’t go how Past Me had envisioned it. I spent half the time hoping the questions came only from the six units I actually studied. Spoiler: they didn’t.

What I learnt: Understanding the syllabus doesn’t mean just reading it and nodding. It means checking all the pages, actually opening the textbook (a wild idea, I know), and not pretending like the universe will bend itself to your fake schedule.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

When I tried to be the 'Put-together friend' for a week (I actually became her)

We all have that one friend who always seems to have it together, their outfits are coordinated, their files are colour-coded, they show up five minutes early and actually reply to texts. One day, I woke up and decided: I want to be that friend. It wasn’t out of jealousy. It was more like curiosity. I wanted to know what it felt like to walk into a room without frantically untangling earphones or pretending I didn’t forget my water bottle. What would it be like to arrive prepared, to be the friend people call for help, not the one they’re constantly reminding? So I made a decision: for the next seven days, I’d be organised, emotionally available, mentally prepared, and aesthetically present. I would be the dependable one. The “Wow, she’s glowing” one. Day one was promising. I actually packed my bag the night before. I wore clean clothes (yes, the ironed kind), left home on time, and carried an extra pen which my friend immediately borrowed and called me an “angel”. I was smug for the n...
Read more

The time I thought I'd get fit and ended up working out in my pyjamas

 I’ve always liked working out. Back in college, I was the person who genuinely enjoyed the post-exercise burn, swore by stretches, and believed a good playlist could turn a walk into a therapy session. But somewhere between the lockdowns, online classes, and turning into a full-time homebody during COVID, my fitness routine slipped into a coma. But this year, I decided it was time to bounce back. A new, upgraded version of me was going to rise- one that meal prepped, ran marathons (or at least jogged), and owned more workout gear than excuses. I wanted to feel energised again. That glow people talk about? I wanted it back. So my first step was to start jogging. But in true dramatic fashion, I didn’t just take a casual walk in the neighbourhood. I bought an expensive monthly pass to a local jogging park. The logic? “If I pay a bomb for it, I’ll obviously go.” I’d read somewhere that spending on fitness makes you more committed. Whoever wrote that clearly didn’t know me. I went thre...
Read more

Maintaining post-college friendships that felt one-sided.

After college ended, I told myself I wouldn’t let go of the friendships I’d built. I was determined to keep in touch, to be the kind of friend who remembers, who stays in people’s lives even when life starts moving fast in different directions. So, I kept reaching out. A random meme to make them smile. A voice note after spotting something that reminded me of a college memory. A “let’s catch up soon?” message every couple of weeks. It wasn’t just habit, I genuinely wanted to stay connected. But slowly, I started to notice a pattern. I was always the one texting first. Always the one nudging, checking in, making plans. It didn’t hit me all at once but one day, while scrolling through our chat history, I realised that every single conversation began with me. So, I decided to do a small experiment: I’d stop texting first. Not in a petty way, not to test anyone just to see what happened if I paused. If I didn’t put in the effort for once, would anyone else? The first couple of days felt we...
Read more