What's Funny? My Schedule Next Semester

My latest uncontrollable fit of laughter occurred yesterday when I got my schedule for next semester. This was not a completely joyous fit of laughter, however.

We are randomly assigned our classes and I actually could not have been given a worse schedule. Here it is so you can understand the gravity of the situation:

Monday: 6:30am - 12:50pm
Tuesday: 8:00am - 10:50am, 3:00pm - 7:50pm
Wednesday: 2:00pm - 4:50pm
Thursday: 8:00am - 1:50pm
Friday: 6:30am - 12:50pm

Let me emphasize, as well, how I hate mornings.

As soon as my friends and I saw my schedule, we all just started laughing uncontrollably. I had discussed with them the worst possible scenarios for my schedule, and none of them were as bad as the schedule that unfolded in front of us.

A few reasons this schedule is so tragic:

1. Unlike the majority of TCU nursing students, I have to be at lab or clinical at 6:30 am two times a week, rather than one.
2. I cannot do anything on Thursday nights because I have to wake up at 5:30 the following morning.
3. I am taking 18 hours, but I will in fact be in class for over 25 hours per week.

The laughing, which I believe was an attempt to make this unfortunate situation more bearable, led on to tangents of other educational horror stories. As fits of laughter tend to do, this snowballed into who-knows-what.

As this fit continued, it slowly morphed into an impending sense of doom. I don't think my friends even noticed by gradual change in tone, but it went from (literal) tears of laughter to (metaphorical) tears of distress.

Kristen Bell gets me

This laughter, at least temporarily, diffused a stressful situation. I have begun to notice more and more often how important it is to have a good sense of humor, particularly during trying times.

Example: One of my life-long friend's fathers passed away this summer. We were all talking after the funeral and were trying to keep the topics light, but didn't want to offend her by making jokes. A man also attending the funeral fainted from the heat, and, surprisingly, my friend looks at us and says, "Geez, this is my dad's funeral, why is he stealing his thunder?" This simple joke changed the mood of the day and reminded us that there is still joy in the world, despite the the difficult day at hand.

While my situation obviously in no way compares to my friend's this summer, it shows again that laughter is a great medicine (real medicine may be better, though). Not only does it release endorphins, which are proven to make you feel better, but it brings you together with those around you.

I continue to laugh at my schedule for next semester, or else I just might cry.