I'm up late last night, working on various things. Therefore, when I had to get up for my 10am class, I was exhausted. I wanted to get up at 8am so that I could perhaps manage to get a small quiet time in. "Nope. Too tired. Sorry God." I rolled over like a dead animal and slept for another hour.
Rushing around like a dreary-eyed, constipated wiener-dog, my morning looked something like this: shower, getting books together, getting pens together, leaving my room, coming back to my room, getting a map of campus, leaving my room, coming back to my room, looking for my glasses, unable to find my glasses, leave the room again, come back again, get a water, leave the room for the last time.
I briskly speed walk towards my class (like one of those mom's you see in your neighborhood who want to stay in shape but don't want to have to work too hard so they keep their legs stiff and look like there's a catheter in the peter). I took out my class schedule and looked at what had the night before looked like 4 straight hours of classes. And I froze. It felt like time had stopped and someone had smashed my face with a colossal frying pan... I didn't have to go to ALL the hours, but 2 of them... but which two what dates were... 
*second smack of colossal frying pan*
... all the classes but my 1:00 didn't start until next week... I felt more sheepish than a 10 year old American stuck on a European nude beach...
*third smack of the face with gargantuan frying pan*
Oh hey. My book is in my bag from last night. What a coincidence! *looks up at sky* I guess I can have that quiet time after all, huh God?... but seriously, did you have to drag me out of bed 3 hours early?? Couldn't you have maybe just done 2?
God always get his way, doesn't He?
- AustinLostinLondon
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