February 12, 2025
i’m an idiot sandwich
jonathan lin
There’s something satisfying about believing I have decent time management skills—well, maybe passable is a better word. At 11:30, knowing I had class at 11:45, I was still sitting in SCDI working on my laptop and cross-referencing notes in a delightful notebook of mine. The cover reads, “Put Yourself First Damn It,” in the nicest font I’ve seen in quite some time. Artistic. Truly.
I figured I could pack up and get to class in 10 minutes. Spoiler: I could. But doubt is a persistent companion.
As I walked to class in Alameda Hall (conveniently near my dorm), a nagging thought popped into my head: the one notebook I didn’t have on me—the red one labeled “Chem”—was probably the one I “needed” for class. (Emphasis on probably because, realistically, any notebook could’ve worked. But still).
The short walk back to my dorm felt unavoidable, despite living on the fourth floor. I couldn’t not go back.
I reached my dorm at 11:40, and that’s when panic set in. I couldn’t find the notebook anywhere. How does one lose a notebook? I pride myself on attempting to be organized. (Okay, fine, I’m messy-organized. It’s a thing. Probably).
Defeated, I dashed out the door with exactly what I had brought in—nothing more, nothing less. I hobbled to class, arriving right at 11:45. Perfect timing!
And then I opened my backpack.
There it was. My red Chem notebook. Sitting smugly, as if it had been there the entire time.
I'm an idiot sandwich.