Fluffy Electrons
You know what I’ve realized today, I absolutely hate organic lab. I don’t mind the class but the lab is hell. After Tuesday is over the week improves ten-fold. How I wish I didn’t have organic lab…sighs.
“Hi, this is Papa Johns, did you just order a pizza.” “Ummm, no.” “Well is this Stetson Hall room 501.” “Yes it is, but I didn’t order a pizza, sorry.” “You’re name is not Ashley?” “NO, the last time I checked it was Serena.” “You didn’t order a pizza?” “No, I didn’t order a pizza!” *Click* Repeat this conversation thirty minutes later. Another one of my phone sagas. As the phone rings….
I have this weird obsession with pretzels and it all started last semester. I eat them everyday and whenever I run out it’s like I’ve lost a part of me. Where did my little pinkie go?
Spinach is the new word for stuff. Where did I get this tidbit of information? Well where else…my professor in organic lab today. Maybe lab isn’t all that bad; I mean I keep up to date on the new lingo of our time.
So I’ve just spent the last 3 minutes zoning off and do you know what awoke me from my dogmatic slumber? Snow in a can. Yes, I bought my snow in a can last November and I have yet to use it aside from the grass and the bathroom mirror that got sprayed in my excitement. I wonder if I should use it now or just wait until this Christmas? Decisions, Decisions.
You know what is really embarrassing? Falling up the stairs. I think it takes talent, a refined skill, to actually be able to fall up the stairs. It’s not something just anyone can do. You have to dedicate yourself to practicing the art of falling up stairs. I have now reached the black belt in falling up the stairs. Don’t mess with me…I’m the Stairmaster.
Dancing banana man makes me happy!
You know what I’ve realized today, I absolutely hate organic lab. I don’t mind the class but the lab is hell. After Tuesday is over the week improves ten-fold. How I wish I didn’t have organic lab…sighs.
“Hi, this is Papa Johns, did you just order a pizza.” “Ummm, no.” “Well is this Stetson Hall room 501.” “Yes it is, but I didn’t order a pizza, sorry.” “You’re name is not Ashley?” “NO, the last time I checked it was Serena.” “You didn’t order a pizza?” “No, I didn’t order a pizza!” *Click* Repeat this conversation thirty minutes later. Another one of my phone sagas. As the phone rings….
I have this weird obsession with pretzels and it all started last semester. I eat them everyday and whenever I run out it’s like I’ve lost a part of me. Where did my little pinkie go?
Spinach is the new word for stuff. Where did I get this tidbit of information? Well where else…my professor in organic lab today. Maybe lab isn’t all that bad; I mean I keep up to date on the new lingo of our time.
So I’ve just spent the last 3 minutes zoning off and do you know what awoke me from my dogmatic slumber? Snow in a can. Yes, I bought my snow in a can last November and I have yet to use it aside from the grass and the bathroom mirror that got sprayed in my excitement. I wonder if I should use it now or just wait until this Christmas? Decisions, Decisions.
You know what is really embarrassing? Falling up the stairs. I think it takes talent, a refined skill, to actually be able to fall up the stairs. It’s not something just anyone can do. You have to dedicate yourself to practicing the art of falling up stairs. I have now reached the black belt in falling up the stairs. Don’t mess with me…I’m the Stairmaster.
Dancing banana man makes me happy!
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home