Duuudddeeee...
Class. The last semester of college classes for me actually. Have I cried? Yes, puddles.
So I went to class today, which happened to be with my freshman roommate/bff/redheaded goddess/significant other. That was exciting in itself. The second most exciting part of that class, however, was the professor, who seemed to have it as together as a freshman on the Link (our school bus...inside joke, sorry). In other words, he did not have it together.
Don't get me wrong, I love professors who go on tangents. Not only do they say some pretty interesting things, I've learned a trick where I just give them a topic to talk about that's not academic related, after which I settle back in my chair and give my eyes a little snoozy (clever, eh?).
Anywho, he got to talking about the last time he had taught that particular class, during which he had some sort of attack and ended up on the floor. And then the hospital. And I'm thinking to myself, "Is this a warning? Is he expecting any of us to be medically trained? Should I have learned CPR prior to this class?" I then scanned the room searching for some able-bodied young adults who looked like they would be able to take control of the situation should the event call for it.
My point is, I've never heard a professor tell me that the last time he had tried to teach that particular class, he didn't make it through the whole thing.
He also mentioned that he didn't have anything prepared for class because he had been "thinking way too much." Can I please use that? How intelligent would I sound if I told one of my profs that I couldn't finish my assignment on account of thinking myself into a dither?
As an aside, why do I freaking always get an itch on my head the moment my professor asks the class a question? Inevitably, it gets misinterpreted as a raised hand, each and every time.
#college #seniorproblems #notstudyingabroad #thisismylife #iwishihadmoreinterestingthingstoblogabout
#laughatprofessorswhodontknowwhattheyredoing
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