Sweet T. and Biscuits

Today's class is given by one of our TA's-not the male one unfortunately because that would be entertaining. Things are laid out in bullet points on the slides (no pictures WTF?) and she's taking like giant pauses between phrases. It feels like a high school presentation by that one girl who everyone ignores but she daydreams about this presentation and the whole class' sudden realization that she's a genius. The high school soccer captain (WAY better than the football team let's be honest) asks her out after class, she gets voted prom queen, after graduation she crowd surfs offstage...but actually people are just bored. It's the sort of dream that I might have had except I was pretty aware of the fact that being smart wasn't going to get me anywhere within those four walls so I made up for it by being funny and trying to keep my head down when anyone mentioned Battlestar Galactica (mmm Lee Adama). Immigrants are coming over. The TA tactfully says “

I am seriously considering skipping class today. There are many factors to this possibility: I am not feeling well, I'm fucking exhausted, it's cold and rainy outside, and the Yale Daily News' joke issue is today. I drag my ass out of bed and convince myself that I have to go to my 10:30 class because I need to ask my TA if I can miss section later this month to go home for the weekend. So I get up, get breakfast, and make it to class like ten minutes early (this only happens on days I don't want to go to class, somehow-days when I'm wide awake always involve me being late to class). My TA isn't here. What the fuck. Well fine I'm here already and there are only like ten people in this class so I can't leave. Let's talk about Women and the New Republic. Not Banana Republic, not OneRepublic, but the New Republic. I initially misspelled banana. Damn. Okay so there's a woman feeding wine to a bald eagle in this picture. It's like college, but pat