Deciding if Pop Tarts are a viable breakfast option
Maybe this could be one of those weird rap sequences Disney tries to introduce to get rid of their rep for stereotypical musical ballads. Throw in some rhymes about the various ingredients, which shouldn’t be too hard because almost every ingredient in Pop Tarts ends in –ose, and then calculate the distance from your bed to whatever dining hall you’re contemplating visiting instead.
Walking to class
If life were a musical, this would be a recurring song as it’s an almost daily occurrence. The chorus would be about mapping the best route, avoiding eye contact with one of your NSO hookups but desperately trying to get the attention of the kid in your Spanish class who is adorably incapable of rolling their R’s but tries every time regardless. Once in a while there’d be a bridge about running late or going to the wrong building, but this would definitely have multiple reprises.
Asking someone for a pencil
You’re in that one class with the professor who thinks laptops are the ruin of learning, and you feel at ease because you brought the spiral notebook with minimal overhang on the unreasonably small desks. Then suddenly, panic sets in. You have no pencils, pens, markers or writing utensils whatsoever. You are faced with the choice of asking a random person to save you, or pricking your finger and writing in blood. The song would weigh the pros and cons of both, help calm your emotional turmoil and eventually lead to you awkwardly looking around at people to make eye contact and smile at someone until they agree out of pity.
Sitting in an aisle seat in a very crowded lecture
This would be a really emotionally charged song because you’d start out perfectly content that you snagged an aisle and would therefore have an advantage in escaping to your next class without being late. Then the melody would shift to a Beethoven–esque bum bum bummm when class ends and the pressure builds for you to get out of the aisle ASAP to avoid the glares of the people in the middle of the aisle. But you can’t get your laptop to fit in its computer case, and you kick your coffee cup over, dropping your PennCard perfectly in the spillage. Sheer terror ensues.
Maybe this could be turned into a bittersweet melody about taking some well deserved “me time” at the cost of studying. What’s more important to you, your sanity or your grades? Throw in some lines about the little pang of fear you get when your battery life says it’s critically low but you still have seventeen minutes left of “Making a Murderer” and we’re talking about some Taylor Swift–level relatability.
Waking up the day after you drank enough to kill a small water buffalo and not feeling hungover
This would be the happy ending in a completely unrealistic musical that you con yourself into believing is possible. The sun would shine, you’d smile at everyone you saw and the squirrels of Penn would choreograph a dance to walk alongside you wherever you went.