So, back to school

I am going today to my fourth day of school this semester.

On Monday I went and was relatively excited.

It was cool, brisk, and campus was filled with little people asking directions and studying their freshman planners with maps in the back.

I thought "This is my last fall on campus!" and then felt sad, nostalgic-like.

Tuesday morning I woke up thinking that it was Thursday. Already.

I cannot keep track of the days during the school year.

I went to my first class and after ten minutes I decided I couldn't bear it anymore, and I had the syllabus and I would just get up and leave for the rest of the day.

That's how desperate I felt.

Immediately.

Luckily my prof was on the same wave-length. "You all know how to read, so go read your syllabus in peace. I won't read it to you."

Class dismissed 12 minutes in.

Good thing I stayed those extra two minutes.

I would have felt foolish if I'd left two minutes before being dismissed.

But I was literally packing up when he said that.

By Wednesday, I'm back into the resigned rhythm of things.

I get up. Meh.

I go to class. Meh.

I sit in back by a boy I used to have a crush on, even though I had previously decided not to sit there.

But there were no other seats. Meh. Of course not.

Then we get out of class ten minutes late, since the prof says as the bell rings "Oh, don't leave without your assignment." Then talks for eight minutes and says, "And just start reading, no real page number to get to." Meh. Professors. Bleh. Assignments.

I escape into the serious fire hazard that is the JKB and fight to the back stairs with four hundred other people, while another four hundred fight their way in. Meh. I blame freshman for all of my campus problems.

Freshman are the reason Professors treat us like babies, right? (I like being a Senior and getting to rip on Freshman.)

I make it to my next class late and our professor doesn't understand any of the jokes we crack.

It's a good class.

And it's full of other English major seniors. I know them all.

I like when people say "Hey Becky, how was your summer?"

I find it comforting.

Our prof says "Has anyone ever died playing video games?"

"Socially?" asks someone; we all laugh and so does our professor. But then she says, "Not kills you've had in your war games. Actual deaths."

And then we all laugh again.

Because she didn't actually understand the joke.

But she doesn't know that.

Then work. Meh.

Then another class where I go and sit and get the syllabus and literally do not know whether or not it's the classroom I'm supposed to be in.

People say "We've had a class together. Did you take whatever with Professor so and so?"

And I don't know.

Because all of my English classes from past semesters have blended into one long literature class by this time. Meh.

I have a hard time even picturing different professors I've had, let alone remembering what class I had them for.

I usually just remember whether or not I liked them. Meh.

You're sick of this, too.

Aren't you?

That's okay. I'm getting bored and discouraged just typing about school.

Meh. Bleh.

School.