It was only 2:30 p.m. and all I could think about was how I would kill for the 90 calorie Special K bar that lay crushed and beaten at the bottom of my bag. I glanced around the Pods to see if I had drawn any notice to my stomach, which had desired incessant attention since seven the night before. It was too hard to focus on Abnormal Psychology when my eyes would much rather wander thoughtlessly to the time tab at the bottom right corner of the computer screen what seemed to be every five minutes.

It was now 3:30 p.m. and I texted my lifelong friend and apartment mate to make sure she hadn’t passed out upstairs on top of her Microbiology textbook. ‘I can’t focus. All I think about is how hungry I am,’ she wrote back immediately. The thought of giving in was tempting, but then I realized that another two hours wasn’t going to kill me.

After I texted some encouraging words back to her about how we were doing the right thing, I called my father who coincidentally happened to be at work on this holiest day of the Jewish year.

For the gentile population, a quick lesson on what Yom Kippur really means would be prudent. It is not, contrary to public opinion, another excuse for our school to cancel classes, allowing us a bonus day to drink and engage in illegal activities. This Day of Atonement asks, for even me, a secular Jew, to repent for my sins against family, friends and God by means of fasting, not engaging in sexual activity and abstaining from any kind of work. My old rabbi used to refer to even our smallest downfalls and imperfections as ‘missing the mark,’ something everyone, admittedly or not, is guilty of. Similar to Lent and Ramadan, it’s a time for Jews to give up something for a certain amount of time to exemplify their grief.

No longer able to focus on my work, I called my dad to say hello. He picked up and asked me how I’m doing. ‘Hungry,’ I complained jokingly. He sounded irritated when he responded, ‘Well, Sara, that’s the point. Now you see how most of the world lives and how lucky you are.’

And so I realized what an ungrateful and selfish individual I was, belly-aching (literally) about not being able to eat for one day out of the entire 365 when the majority of life on this planet starves and struggles every day. Once again, for the umpteenth time since I could actually comprehend what Yom Kippur actually signified, I had entirely exhausted the somber time to think about where I had gone astray and who I had hurt in the past year. If I could have quit focusing on exactly what my boyfriend was making me for dinner and everything edible I could consume from sundown on, I could have made the day a spiritual and eye-opening experience.