There are a lot of classes that I dislike going to.

I take them because I have to, because my university wants me to be “well-rounded” and because I want to be “graduated.” I won’t get into specifics, although the thought has crossed my mind to publish columns about actual professors I hate (I have the power, Mr. Schellinger, so check yourself!). Maybe that’s just me.

However, I don’t care who you are — everyone can agree that 6 to 9 classes suck. With a capital F.

There’s nothing good about a 6 to 9. You can try and argue that these classes get all of the week’s hours out of the way in one compact time frame, but that is such a weak statement. It’s the same as saying, “At least someone kicked me in the shin three times in a row today instead of spreading it throughout this week.” Either way, you’re still hurting. And now it’s really hard to put on pants.

Nobody wants to be in a 6 to 9. All of the students are daydreaming about other places they’d rather be than this joyless void of disparity. (I would rather take a guest spot in one of those contraptions from the “Saw” movies because at least that only lasts an hour and 40 minutes.) Even the professor fantasizes about all of all of the shows she could be watching. Life hasn’t been the same since Netflix became more expensive.

You can fool yourself into thinking that this class will be different, that three hours isn’t the end of the world. That is, until you glance at the clock at 6:45 and then look back half an hour later to find that it is 6:48. Three hours can feel like an eternity when it lasts forever — that’s science.

Mid-class breaks are that small silver lining in the dark, looming clouds of a 6 to 9. Or they would be if they were worth anything. If you are unlucky enough to have a teacher who says, “Okay, let’s take 10 to stretch our legs,” I pity your poor soul. It is as if you have become unchained and are free to see the world — you remember what it is like to be a human being with emotions besides monotony and hunger. For a brief moment, you can feel again. But before you finish blinking (if you are even fortunate enough to blink), your break time is over and it’s time to go back to the cave. Whereas time once lasted a lightyear, it now lasts a lightsecond, so is it really better to know what you’re missing?

Even the title “6 to 9” isn’t accurate, but saying that you have a class from 6 to 8:50 makes you sound pretentious, as if you have to be specific with the times you say because your schedule is so packed. Besides, anything that lasts three hours is really worth complaining about: waiting in line at the Secretary of State, driving home, watching “The Green Mile.” Who has that kind of endurance?

I may only have two 6 to 9s this semester, but I can already tell that this “well-rounded” malarkey is going to push me to my limits. I may sound cruel and over-the-top, but it’s only because I got kicked in the shin today.

[email protected]