The other day I woke up at 5:30 am. I don’t know why. If you ask me, there’s no good reason for anyone to have practical knowledge of 5:30 am unless your house is on fire. Really, I would have been quite content just knowing that it existed out there somewhere between 5 and 6.
What annoyed me the most about my very rude awakening, was that I had to get up half an hour later to get ready for class, and that I’d only really fallen asleep around two. I briefly considered skipping my class. I have been ignoring that particular class for a whole month, and lightning still hasn’t struck me yet. But my sense of obligation (which I like to refer to as temporary insanity) insisted that I would have to turn up at least once.
So I did. And as soon as the professor walked into the room, that nagging little feeling that I made a mistake started to pick at the back of my brain. He has long, splintered hair, a gigantic sweater, slimpants (SLIMPANTS!!!) and walked with tiny little steps, like those of a little girl, while he stared at something in the middle of the room that only he could see.
He then proceeded to sit on a chair, all the way in the corner, with his hands cluthing his knees and his eyelid pinched shut. He looked like he was in pain. Over the next couple of hours I learned that the I’m-giving-birth-to-an-alien-rectally-look was, in fact, his thinking look and not some evidence of great physical torment. His words all travelled in pairs. He spoke (no, mumbled) two of them, and then had a long pause where the alien seemed to bother him before letting out another two.
I realized that three hours of sleep wasn’t enough for me to keep awake during this ordeal. I looked out of the window and wished that I could tear my head off and throw it out into the parking lot, so that I would no longer have to be in the room. At that moment, Mumbles said “…The one thing you cannot amputate, of course, is your head”. I don’t know what the context was.
In the end, I managed to suffer through two hours, but then I absolutely had to go. I wasn’t the only one. My voice of obligation and my lazybones all agreed that I was never to return to that class ever again.
What annoyed me the most about my very rude awakening, was that I had to get up half an hour later to get ready for class, and that I’d only really fallen asleep around two. I briefly considered skipping my class. I have been ignoring that particular class for a whole month, and lightning still hasn’t struck me yet. But my sense of obligation (which I like to refer to as temporary insanity) insisted that I would have to turn up at least once.
So I did. And as soon as the professor walked into the room, that nagging little feeling that I made a mistake started to pick at the back of my brain. He has long, splintered hair, a gigantic sweater, slimpants (SLIMPANTS!!!) and walked with tiny little steps, like those of a little girl, while he stared at something in the middle of the room that only he could see.
He then proceeded to sit on a chair, all the way in the corner, with his hands cluthing his knees and his eyelid pinched shut. He looked like he was in pain. Over the next couple of hours I learned that the I’m-giving-birth-to-an-alien-rectally-look was, in fact, his thinking look and not some evidence of great physical torment. His words all travelled in pairs. He spoke (no, mumbled) two of them, and then had a long pause where the alien seemed to bother him before letting out another two.
I realized that three hours of sleep wasn’t enough for me to keep awake during this ordeal. I looked out of the window and wished that I could tear my head off and throw it out into the parking lot, so that I would no longer have to be in the room. At that moment, Mumbles said “…The one thing you cannot amputate, of course, is your head”. I don’t know what the context was.
In the end, I managed to suffer through two hours, but then I absolutely had to go. I wasn’t the only one. My voice of obligation and my lazybones all agreed that I was never to return to that class ever again.
13 comments:
I guess he's been living in Hellhole too long. Let that be a lesson to you.
I had a double module in my final year of uni where i went to the first two lectures, got the chapters i had to study and some old exam papers and passed. Psychology of Art. Never went back all year. Sleep is more useful than bad lectures.
Jazz - frightening thought. I wonder if you can tell when you've crossed the line of no return, or if it kinda just sneaks up on you
Toasty - very true. That's exactly what I decided on.
I don't even know my own name that early in the morning.
mist1 - neither did I
Mr. fabulous - I wish you could, too
I don't look good in slim pants. ;)
Steve~
I still have nightmares about walking in after skipping too many classes and looking like an unprepared fool.
Two and three hour classes are the pits. I can't believe I ever survived them.
I wonder if you can tell when you've crossed the line of no return, or if it kinda just sneaks up on you
I think it just sneaks up on you. But if you're nice to us, maybe we'll let you know when you're approaching the line...
Oh how I hate it when I wake up that early...and to tell you the truth...so does everyone else...HAHA
;o)
Steve - nobody does, really. lol
Hammer - prepared? Never heard of him.
Jazz - please do. If not, it'll come back and bite you in the ass, you know.
Jillie - I often thought that I should sleep in as often as possible, out of consideration for the poor bastards who are forced to be around me in the morning.
First off, I've been very remiss in my blog readings the last couple of weeks (too much work junk going on), but I want to compliment you on the new look of the joint. Fab.
And what subject is this guy teaching? Head Nodding 101?
Hey, I'm tagging you with a meme in my latest blog...
I've slept through a few classes. It's the boredom factor...
Jocelyn - Tag-mission accomplished. I think he could have tried to teach anything, really, and I probably wouldn't have noticed. It was completely impossible to focus on the stuff that came out of his mouth. It was the weirdest thing...
bobby - it is, indeed. Nice to see you:)
Post a Comment