Sunday, April 09, 2006

One semester

I was asked to be in a documentary on my kindly old professor. "He told us to speak to you because you're one of his more brilliant students." Well, that's flattering!

The problem is, I've only known this man for one semester. And for most of it, I suspected he had Alzheimer's (which I then discovered was just a brilliant ploy to confuse, deceive, and destruct). So I guess they won't be capturing any candid moments with me - just a whole lot of diplomacy.


Why am I writing on my blog instead of starting my assignments? Because ... it's just so hard to get started. Yesterday, I took the bus down to the other campus and was told the entire Mass Communications envelope - the one with the entire semester's readings - were (improperly) signed out. "By this man," the supervisor said, holding up the guy's student ID.

It was him. That bloody bastard. That assaholis interruptus I once asked to refrain from speaking when others were. I told my teacher about the situation without identifying who it was and she immediately sent a mass email condemning the perpetrator and demanding the papers back ASAP. That'll show him! Except ... since he's damn near 60, what are the chances he tends to his inbox on a frequent basis? I would think he tends to his bowel movements more often. But I sort of hope he fucks up even further so we are all granted an extension. So many essays in so little time, what am I to do?

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