After a week of drowsiness and a leaky nose, I am finally feeling better. I survived my second week of Fall Quarter. This morning, I opened my eyes, blinked a few times, and looked through my window without having to move. My eyes met with the dreariness outside and I smiled, knowing that it is Fall and getting ever closer to winter--my favorite time of year.
At that point, I realized that it was 6:45am, meaning that I had overslept 45 minutes and the weekly quiz in my 7:30am math class wasn't going to wait. I dressed in clothes that were conveniently already on the floor, filled up my coffee mug, and darted out into the dark morning.
My blurry eyes and crazy hair must have made it obvious that I woke up late. Walking into math, clutching my coffee mug, and dropping my bag next to my usual seat as I moan and fall into the chair, I hear Gabriel's voice behind me.
"Those are the same pants you wore yesterday. They have a coffee spot on your right leg."
"...Hey, thanks for noticing." I say, chuckling because I feel like I was caught.
"Have you had coffee yet today?" I answer by shifting to the left, and motioning towards my mug so he can see it on the table.
"Did you know caffeine is bad for you? What would you do if coffee was made illegal?"
"Drop out of school and become a black market coffee hustler." Duh.
The math quiz ran late, and therefore making me late to Spanish class. Since the building that houses Spanish is located off campus, Gabriel and I drive there everyday, always barely making it on time. This guy drives like a mad man, like he's trying to rush a pregnant wife to the hospital, but he's not. I think he just likes to freak me out, and he laughs the whole time while pulling tricky maneuvers. This morning as I was enjoying a sip of coffee, he deliberately slammed the brakes, causing the car to jolt, and cascading coffee all down the front of my white sweater. More laughter.
Perfect. Just perfectttt. At least now my sweater matches my pants.
We run into class soaked from rain, and still catching our breath from the run from the car, and I can tell by way the teacher drops his head to look at us that he's not having a good day. It's the way a person with glasses will drop their head a few degrees in order to look at you over the rims of their classes; this teacher has the same stare, but no glasses.
Spanish class came and went. The school day wrapped itself up uneventfully and now I'm at work, catching myself staring mindlessly out the window at the rain again.
At that point, I realized that it was 6:45am, meaning that I had overslept 45 minutes and the weekly quiz in my 7:30am math class wasn't going to wait. I dressed in clothes that were conveniently already on the floor, filled up my coffee mug, and darted out into the dark morning.
My blurry eyes and crazy hair must have made it obvious that I woke up late. Walking into math, clutching my coffee mug, and dropping my bag next to my usual seat as I moan and fall into the chair, I hear Gabriel's voice behind me.
"Those are the same pants you wore yesterday. They have a coffee spot on your right leg."
"...Hey, thanks for noticing." I say, chuckling because I feel like I was caught.
"Have you had coffee yet today?" I answer by shifting to the left, and motioning towards my mug so he can see it on the table.
"Did you know caffeine is bad for you? What would you do if coffee was made illegal?"
"Drop out of school and become a black market coffee hustler." Duh.
The math quiz ran late, and therefore making me late to Spanish class. Since the building that houses Spanish is located off campus, Gabriel and I drive there everyday, always barely making it on time. This guy drives like a mad man, like he's trying to rush a pregnant wife to the hospital, but he's not. I think he just likes to freak me out, and he laughs the whole time while pulling tricky maneuvers. This morning as I was enjoying a sip of coffee, he deliberately slammed the brakes, causing the car to jolt, and cascading coffee all down the front of my white sweater. More laughter.
Perfect. Just perfectttt. At least now my sweater matches my pants.
We run into class soaked from rain, and still catching our breath from the run from the car, and I can tell by way the teacher drops his head to look at us that he's not having a good day. It's the way a person with glasses will drop their head a few degrees in order to look at you over the rims of their classes; this teacher has the same stare, but no glasses.
Spanish class came and went. The school day wrapped itself up uneventfully and now I'm at work, catching myself staring mindlessly out the window at the rain again.
No comments:
Post a Comment