Sometimes when my roommates are all gone, when the blinds are closed but the windows are open, when the twilight that peeks out from behind scars in the cloudscape attest to the chilly summer night, when the wind blows cracks in my blinds for the streetlights to cast orange shadows, when the sounds of the city — cars, trucks, distant voices that echo their way up to my fifth floor cavern, sometimes when lying in my bed, more because I’m sad than because I’m tired, I know how it feels to be completely alone in a world bustling with activity.
I don’t consider community college students to be a rigorously academic bunch, because it’s not where academics is generally… performed rigorously. It’s more like a place for the working-class to take classes between shifts and not have to pay real tuition. Of course, you do have the types who are goal-oriented and all, but most of them were the middling types who viewed high school graduation as a major achievement in life.
Anyway, taking a menial course at a community college has shown me one area in which CC students are probably better than the academically focused 4-year kids: improvisation. I was writing a script for a presentation, and part of it just said “ad lib” and they did. They adlibbed the whole damn thing. Amazing. I see students in my classes get caught unaware and they can’t think of anything to say. So this is interesting.
I was recently under the weather a bit, so I thought I’d talk about the time that I was really sick.
It was my 2nd year here, and I’d gotten the damn flu. When I just get colds, I take some tylenol and go to class, it’s not too bad usually. The upside of going to class when you’re sick is that you can get the other people in the class sick, forcing them to possibly miss lectures and do slightly worse on the exam, which is misanthropic thinking but you can’t arrest me for thoughtcrime.
So, I’m feeling pretty rubbish on Tuesday, but I still go to class. Whatever. I’m thinking that maybe I have a cold and I’ll get over it.
On Wednesday, I wake up, and it’s horrible. It wasn’t like I was really sniffly or choughing, the obvious symptoms of minor disease. I’m running a moderate fever, and I have chills, muscle weakness, and a headache. But still, I go to class. My bio lecture in the morning. I looked ostensibly normal, but walking up the hill to campus, it felt like my lungs were on fire and I was about to collapse. But I made it and sat for the lecture, and walked back home. Then I got back into bed and took a nap until lunch. I got up, ate lunch, and went back to sleep. I had physics lecture and a stat discussion in the afternoon. I must have gone to them both, because I never miss class, but I don’t remember going to the physics lecture because I was pretty fucked up by then, I guess. I do remember going to stat discussion though, and I was just sprawled out at my desk, I remember staring at the clock for a while, but I was seriously mentally gone (although I’d have to admit that I was mentally gone for most of stat. I hate stat.)
When I came back, I crawled back into bed again. Then dinner. I’d pretty much spent the entire day in bed. I remember asking my roommate if he could wake up early to deliver my stat homework if I were too dead to go to class tomorrow. I’d figured that if I got even just a bit worse, there’d be no way that I could go to class. Maybe I’d just drop off my homework and come back. Anyway, back to bed. I’d been sleeping well, which is weird but I guess the illness just helps you sleep.
The next morning (Thursday), I woke up (which is good. I didn’t die in my sleep.) The first thought that run through my head amount to, “Ok, I’m awake. Am I alright? Yeah, oh, everything feels better. Yeah, I can work with this.” So I get up and go to my usual classes. It feels a bit like a mild cold, which is paradise compared to what an angry flu feels like. I had classes until noon, so I didn’t come back until then. Meanwhile, my roommates had awakened and wondered to each other whether or not I had died. We had a good laugh about it when I came back.
Anyway, that was the story when I was really sick.
Taken from the internet. Worth reposting due to humor value.
>during high school, smart but unmotivated as fuck
>taking physics + bio from same teacher
>she’s damn hot
>perfect B/C tits, tight ass, intelligent and can shut people up
>takes a liking to me
>tease/flirts like friends
>focus on her, not on assignments/tests
>fail course, have to retake the shit in summer school
>think i could prob tap that, she’s single
>ready for it, psych myself up
>first day of summer school, show up at class
>open the door
>get on the floor
>everybody walk the dinosaur
Pretty good, in general. I recently found her on Facebook. We had eighth grade together. The school was full of hood rats — the impressionable young people who listen to rap and then adapt their lives to the words of their heroes — at best, the world’s future construction workers and at worst, defendants in future criminal proceedings. So, when you go to a school like that, you invariably disavow the traditional definition of “clique” and befriend anyone who isn’t human scum. So, I didn’t go for the traditional nerd group (which consisted solely of me and two others) but I was friends with skaters, artsy kids, and E, who was a goth.
Every day she wore dark colors (while being pale) and it looked more or less like she shopped for clothes exclusively at Hot Topic. This was back when Hot Topic wasn’t universally reviled. So we were relatively good friends, but it’s not like we’d hang out all the time.
Anyway, I told Alt. that I added E. He was like, “Oh! She was the one girl you could talk to without freaking out.”