Adventures of the Boy Genius (Pt. IV)

Last week while registering for Summer Term, I discovered that I ended up with an "A" in last semester's Anatomy & Physiology course. This was a pleasant surprise since I thought I'd be getting a B, based on my performance on the Final. And then there was this and other things like not studying for quizzes and other stuff. (Btw, this discovery has nothing to do with my post from Friday, which is something else entirely.)

I was reminded through various fliers posted around the hallways and offices that Summer Term "begins the week of June 2" and I could go on here about how soul crushing 4 hours of Chemistry 4 days a week for the next 8 weeks is and how it is going to totally suck any fun I was planning on having this summer, but that will be material for future, hopefully hilarious posts.

Anyway, back to my story. I woke early on Monday armed with a new confidence (thanks to the A in A&P), ready to tackle the summer semester head-on. I rode my bike to school, tracing the quickest and safest path (I'm going to a different City College this summer, not my regular one. But don't worry, I'm still getting the best possible education offered by the award-winning City Colleges of Chicago!!), then even had time to buy a new nifty yellow notebook and some pens. I confidently walked into school, mentally prepared for even the toughest chemistry conundrums.

After a few minutes of noticing that the building seemed rather empty of students, even for summer, I discovered that I was in fact two days early for the first day of class -- I'd shown up on Monday for a class that didn't start until Wednesday.

Fucking hell. I think I might be one of those people who is "book" smart instead of "regular" smart. Or maybe I'm just not smart at all.

BREAKING NEWS: Congratulations to the Niner and LP who found out today they're having a Hot Dog and not a Bun. This is awesome news. Except I had predicted a Bun, so my baby guessing percentage continues to run at about 0%.

Blue Line Blues

[the monitors at Clark/Lake subway stop]

Every morning I take the Blue Line to the Clark/Lake stop to transfer to the Brown Line. Since the Blue Line is also the line out of the city to O'Hare, there are monitors set up at Clark/Lake with status of mostly domestic departing flights. I suppose this is to aid commuters heading out the the airport. Very helpful, right?

Personally, I find this not helpful in the least. It is torture, really.

Every. Single. Weekday morning. I am compelled to glance at it as I weave through the crowds and rush of the morning commute - the 9:50 flight to San Fran; the 10:10 to Portland; the noon flight to JFK; LA; Vegas; DC; Austin. Or my favorite - the 2:30 to Heathrow. Fuck you, American Airlines.

You get the picture. It is as though these monitors are there to remind me that I'm not going anywhere. Except to my office or class. When all I really want is to get on a plane and go somewhere; anywhere away from the snow and cold and homework. Sigh.

Quiz

In the last two weeks have you:

1. Not eaten a vegetable, or anything else of any significant nutritional value?
2. Been frustrated that you have not been able to shake off the same fucking persistent cold you’ve had for the past three weeks?
3. Broke out into laughter in public for no apparent reason, kinda like a crazy person?
4. Broke down into tears in public for no apparent reason, kinda definitely like a crazy person?
5. Walked 100 meters out of your way to take an escalator, just to avoid walking the flight of stairs right in front of you?
6. Failed two Chemistry quizzes? (Granted, only worth about 1% of your grade, but still…
7. Honestly thought – even just for a few seconds - that perhaps the Virgin Mary was speaking to you through your car radio?
8. Gone to bed on a Saturday “night” at 5:45 in the afternoon (that’s right – afternoon – not morning), and slept all the way through until the next morning at 9am (that’s 15 hours for those counting)?
9. Been both sad and relieved that you don’t have tickets to Friday’s Spice Girls show?
   

If you answered “Fuck Yeah” to ALL the above questions, then Congratulations – you’re probably me!

Be sure to throw yourself from a 7th story window at your earliest convenience.