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Speaking of attending classes

I ran out this evening to grab some groceries and beer (beer is key to all meals), and I was in a bit of a rush, as I had an evening class to make it to. Well, fortunately for my attendance record, as soon as I left my building I was struck by slothbolt out of the sky and decided to just pick up the beer. I figured I could have corn flakes for dinner or something. With beer maybe. (That’s called “beereal” at Penn State, Jesse informs me. Shudder.)

Well, as I’m coming back to stock my room with yet another case of beer, I bump into Carl, who has to go grocery shopping. Blast. I get one-man peer-pressured into tagging along, and do indeed scoop up some healthy comestibles and shove them in my bag before hustling off to class.

This Monday evening class is on a different campus, about twenty minutes distant by foot. Since I was at the grocery store, I had to hustle to keep that at twenty minutes. It was a delightfully frigid autumn night.

I get there about four minutes late and plop down in the lecture hall, stripping my coat off and dealing with my hoodie by rolling up the sleeves. The room is warm. The prof is lecturing about different elements and their radioactive properties, and it’s all pretty badass. Then his assistant wheels out a cart of contraptions, and the professor bids him turn off the lights.

They use a magic lightning gun and zap cool glass tubes and bright colors flash and breakdance within. It’s like I’m tripping. The room is warm, the lights are still out.

Zonk.

The lights come back on eventually and I kind of wake up, happily snug in my hoodie. Then the professor remembers a certain glass doohickey that he forgot to zap and clicks the lights back out.

Zonk.

Man, I felt like a bird. For the rest of the lecture I was totally narcoleptic, and it sucked, because the material was fairly interesting. I mean, radioactivity is thumbs up, right?

Came home and was lazy about dinner, just made some store-bought tortellini. Tomorrow morning I’m going to dump a little bit of everything I bought into a scrumptious and massive omelette.

Life is good.

Zonk.