The guys in class—among my closest friends in med school—invited me to a boys' night out of sorts on a Thursday night. Because of their insistence, I gladly obliged. Sadly a few didn't make it because of some school reports they had to work on.
What should otherwise have been a predictable night of joking and storytelling turned out to be a session of intelligent, meaningful conversation. I don't have plans to publish any of the things we talked about, but I was glad to have learned many new things about my friends, things I wouldn't have realized under ordinary circumstances. I'm sure they felt the same way.
I went home that night grateful, sleepy, and—to tell you the truth—a little bit anxious for fear of coming late to class the next day, until I realized that coming home at 1 pm felt just like studying for a test. Med school has succeeded in messing up my circadian rhythm.