The image I saw last before passing out for a 20-minute power nap
I woke up early this morning not at all ready for a school day that stretched from 9:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m.
In English, my group facilitated away, going through each entry we had managed to slap together late the night before, and having the rest of the class constructively criticize them. Shudder. The journalistic entry was fantastic and, to me, really captured the essence of “normative act of making” (I learned more from reading my group mate’s entry than I did from all the previous days’ worth of discussion), thanks Shane. The Facebook entry was funny in content, but, I thought, only adequate in delivery. The academic entry, the one I took on for myself, made everyone groan, including the professor.
“Aughhh, it’s so long!” <-- echoed by classmates the room over
“Wow” <-- the professor, uttered with more a tone of disbelief than with actual awe. “This is long, but I can tell that you really put a lot of work into this!”
After these preliminary comments, five-minutes of my life was spent red-faced and deathly quiet as the rest of the class silently read the entry. The general consensus was that it was, again, very long (I get, people), that it presented a lot of good ideas, but that I should choose only one of these good ideas and expound on it, making room for it, of course, by cutting the introductory summaries.
And that was only the second class out of four today.
After, I was engaged in an excited discussion about what had just transpired in class with Shane, one of my group mates, as we passed from Condon to Red Square. Midway, we were joined by Justin, another classmate, with whom I went to UT and ate teriyaki goodness at Red Square. We were getting ready to sit on one of the slabs right smack dab in Red Square, when I said:
“Ah! This must be where that man died last year”
“You know, the man who set himself on fire…? He was a custodian…? Ring a bell? No? Okay. Well, there was a man who set himself on fire at this very spot and, later, died on his way to the hospital.”
“…Uh, I didn’t about that,” he said, as he sat down and opened his white take-out box. Delicious aroma instantly filled the air and reminded me of my own hunger.
“Oh, well, I thought you should know before, uh, we start eating lunch.”
Apparently, he’s a recently-transferred student! Wow, my bad. However, my indiscretion didn’t stop there (and I only realize it now that I’m blogging about this):
“So what took you forever to get to college?” And he said that he had worked and made good enough money as to discourage him from pursuing higher education. But then he increasingly grew unhappy with his job and wanted to attain his other passions in life. And that he laments the lost years of his youth, when he could have started on this path earlier.
“Ah, don’t worry, you’re not that old.”
“Yeah? How old do you think I am?”
“…27?” I was a bit off, and he was mortified to realize that I thought him younger than he really was.
After this, I attended Microbiology, where we had a surprise quiz (perfect! I didn’t study for this…), and then ESS, and then Suzzallo Library, where I took a power nap for 15 minutes before continuing on with CLUE session at Johnson at 5:30 p.m., and then running to Kane Hall at 6:30 p.m.
Once again, I collapsed in my bed.