Dream: My Misguided Academic Dilligence
Tuesday, March 14th:
I had less than an hour of free time to write a paper due Tuesday, even though that was a couple days from now. I hadn't really started, but I had a slight advantage. The assignment covered a former student who'd gone on to gain some minor renown. I'd learned something about him that wasn't common knowledge, heard from an older student in another department that used to know him:
One day, when the subject of our papers returned to his apartment and shut the door, he saw his girlfriend stood naked and smiling in the corner. The Pizzicato Five began playing Girl from Ipanema on the radio and she started dancing. Only days later, he'd (famously) quit school and moved to Virginia.
Alyssa and I clambered over a knife-ridge of loose earth clumps in Virginia. On the top, we were just within reach of the crowns of the nearest row of the crop; tall, thin trees with light and dark green leaves, and a few large, yellow flowers. The guidebook said they were tasty and nutritious, but we weren't sure which part to eat. We tried munching on flowers and leaves, but they were unremarkable. I looked in the crook of a nearby stump and found chewed-up seed hulls, so I figured it must be the seeds. A pair of black robins burst from the next stump over and swooped past me chirping madly to defend their nest. Thin white markings wrapped around their blood-red chests, curling onto their sooty dorsal feathers.
On my way to an institutional bathroom to get showered and changed for class, I realized I was already washed, dried, and dressed. Charles hurt his knee in a sport and limped in with a brace as I walked out.
I visited the student's old apartment, where I found his brown 70's-era radio. I noticed a car cigarette lighter built into the radio console, and a second sliding tray-button that activated reverb and some other distortions. The radio came to life playing Girl from Ipanema again, and I decided not to go to class today until I finished my paper.
My worries returned when I got to class. The alum that had told me the story was sitting on the desk and presenting it to the class. So much for my clever research. Somehow I didn't think my trip to Virginia would make up for not having read the book.
Cindy (my last boss at Air Traffic and most favorite boss ever) leaned back in her chair, hands clasped behind her head. As I slipped into the classroom, I inadvertently bumped the door against her bruised left elbow, and she winced. Once I sat down, she asked me whether or not I played sports.
"Yes," I exaggerated, "a little."
Her face fell into a disappointed sigh. I clearly wouldn't understand whatever story she'd wanted to tell.
I had less than an hour of free time to write a paper due Tuesday, even though that was a couple days from now. I hadn't really started, but I had a slight advantage. The assignment covered a former student who'd gone on to gain some minor renown. I'd learned something about him that wasn't common knowledge, heard from an older student in another department that used to know him:
One day, when the subject of our papers returned to his apartment and shut the door, he saw his girlfriend stood naked and smiling in the corner. The Pizzicato Five began playing Girl from Ipanema on the radio and she started dancing. Only days later, he'd (famously) quit school and moved to Virginia.
Alyssa and I clambered over a knife-ridge of loose earth clumps in Virginia. On the top, we were just within reach of the crowns of the nearest row of the crop; tall, thin trees with light and dark green leaves, and a few large, yellow flowers. The guidebook said they were tasty and nutritious, but we weren't sure which part to eat. We tried munching on flowers and leaves, but they were unremarkable. I looked in the crook of a nearby stump and found chewed-up seed hulls, so I figured it must be the seeds. A pair of black robins burst from the next stump over and swooped past me chirping madly to defend their nest. Thin white markings wrapped around their blood-red chests, curling onto their sooty dorsal feathers.
On my way to an institutional bathroom to get showered and changed for class, I realized I was already washed, dried, and dressed. Charles hurt his knee in a sport and limped in with a brace as I walked out.
I visited the student's old apartment, where I found his brown 70's-era radio. I noticed a car cigarette lighter built into the radio console, and a second sliding tray-button that activated reverb and some other distortions. The radio came to life playing Girl from Ipanema again, and I decided not to go to class today until I finished my paper.
My worries returned when I got to class. The alum that had told me the story was sitting on the desk and presenting it to the class. So much for my clever research. Somehow I didn't think my trip to Virginia would make up for not having read the book.
Cindy (my last boss at Air Traffic and most favorite boss ever) leaned back in her chair, hands clasped behind her head. As I slipped into the classroom, I inadvertently bumped the door against her bruised left elbow, and she winced. Once I sat down, she asked me whether or not I played sports.
"Yes," I exaggerated, "a little."
Her face fell into a disappointed sigh. I clearly wouldn't understand whatever story she'd wanted to tell.