When my alarm went off the other day, I thought, I don’t need to go into uni…I’ve only got one class…hardly any point…may as well stay in bed…
And isn’t it such a great feeling when you finally admit to yourself that you’re going to miss your class and so you settle back into your cosy warm bed? I only wish I could enjoy this feeling for more than two seconds, but it seems that that’s the time it takes to wake my ever guilty conscience.
GET UP YOU LAZY COW. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO SUCCEED IN LIFE IF YOU CAN’T EVEN MANAGE ONE CLASS IN A DAY? GOD, YOU DISGUST ME.
Aaaaaaand up I spring.
An hour later, I’m sitting in my lecture all happy and guilt free, when in walks the lecturer.
Why have my palms gone all clammy?
Why has my knee started juddering?
Why do I suddenly feel as though I’m a hungover camel on a boat?
“Right, quiet down, quiet down. Now, students always say that when they get to their graduation day, they meet a lot of people who have been on the same course as them for four years, but who they have never before spoken to. Well, this ain’t gonna happen on my watch!”
Oh yes, she’s the bitch who made one poor soul stand up in front of five hundred people on the first day of first year and relay one interesting or memorable fact about themselves.
And she was about to do it again.
But, having managed to position myself directly behind the person in front, I could relax and watch as a poor girl, called Beth who likes to watch Weeds, was picked out of the mass of students.
Now, this lecturer is actually pretty good, but WHY must she do this? Frankly, it’s humiliating and degrading and who has an interesting or memorable fact about themselves at the ready?
She’s lucky she didn’t pick me. If I actually managed to stand up, and if I actually managed to speak, I wouldn’t have had anything to say. When I saw The Hobbit, I felt the best part was when Bilbo was sitting in his little Hobbit Hole, by a big fire, reading a book and eating a fish. I was furious when the dwarves came and took him on a stupid adventure – I would have much rather sat for two hours watching Bilbo reading and eating.
So she would have had a tough time getting anything interesting out of me!
But seriously, I just wish that the next time she does this, she’ll pick someone who’ll stand up and say…
“Well, er, last weekend I, er, shat myself at a party. Yeeeeah, people seem to remember me by that particular episode of my life.”
Would that put an end to this dreadful humiliation?