Ava Stringer ’28

by Ava Stringer ’28 on October 8, 2026

There is something deeply depressing about leaving class at 5 p.m. and realizing it’s already dark.

It’s not actually that late. People are still walking around, clubs are still meeting, and professors are still assigning work due at midnight. But once the sun goes down, my brain seems to decide that the day is over. I could have three hours of work left and still feel like I should be wrapped in a blanket. 

The worst part is dinner. There is something weird about eating dinner in complete darkness. Dinner is supposed to take place while there is still enough sunlight to convince yourself that you have a productive evening ahead of you. Instead, I am sitting in Alumni at 5:30 p.m. with my roommates, wondering why it feels like I should be asleep. 7 p.m. feels like 10 p.m. and 9 p.m. feels like midnight. By the time I finish my homework, I feel like I have survived an entire day, even though it was dark before I finished my first assignment.

But maybe there is an upside. Once it gets dark, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything by staying inside. The library becomes less of a social event and more of a place to actually get something done. There is something oddly motivating about looking out the window at 7 p.m., seeing nothing but darkness and realizing that I have nothing to do other than finish the paper I have been avoiding all afternoon.

When the sun is out, it feels like there is always more time. You can meet a friend between classes, scroll on your phone, go for a walk around the track, or convince yourself that you will do your work later. In October, the sun disappears, and suddenly the day feels limited. It forces us to accept that the day is ending, even when our schedules say it is not. We still have readings to finish and exams to study for, but there is no sunlight left to distract us.

I still do not like eating dinner in the dark. I still think 5 p.m. is far too early for the day to be over. But there is something comforting about knowing everyone else is inside too, trying to get through the same pile of work. I’ll take pictures of the early sunsets while quietly benefiting from them. If the sun insists on leaving at 5 p.m., I might as well get some work done before I go to bed at the completely reasonable hour of 8:30 p.m.