tavie.com

I had to wait for an hour and a half to see the doctor today and spent the whole time worrying I was going to be late for my Sex and Gender class. (The "if you miss three you're out of the class, and if you're a minute late you're marked absent" class.) First, every little old lady in the world needed to go before me. Then he decided on a whim that he wanted to draw blood, even though I was just there for a new scrip. We started talking about crossword puzzles and I think I was there ten minutes longer than was strictly necessary just telling him the answers to last Sunday's Times puzzle. ("The Purrfect Storm, you see, Doc, it's a pun....")

I got to school three minutes after the class had ended, so, there's one absence. Someone keep track for me, I can't miss any more unless someone dies or Dave Foley himself needs me for very important making-out-with-him business during class hours, end even then I'd need him to come along and make out with me while my professor lectured.

Crap.

Latin remains exhausting and perplexing. If I didn't like the teacher so damn much I think I'd be having a real nervous breakdown, dropping classes, slicing up body parts, et cetera ad infinitum.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:43 PM | shower me with attention