Things I don't get...
Things I don’t get:
1. Prof’s who post office hours and when you show up to ask a question they snap at you because they’re typing up ppt. notes for a class they have to teach in 30 mins. At that point wouldn’t that be normal office work(.ie. your job) and not office hours you assigned at the beginning of term in which students could come during designated times to ask questions they have. Don’t call it office hours- call it frantically preparing for class-leave me alone hour. Don’t leave your door open. Don’t say come back another time because the only time to find you is when you’ve designated office hour.
I now know this means not really office hour but hour in which I have my door open and snap a students who think because it says office hour and the door door’s open they can come in and ask a question-but really they can’t. thanks, good to know.
2. bad luck or rather bad timing. Why does it have to happen, and if it does have to happen why can’t I look fantabulous when I run into people I want to avoid? Picture it: its 7 o’clock on a Friday night I’m scrubbing it in flip-flops, old sweats, an un-matched top and my glasses. My hair’s unwashed and thrown together with a hair tie and head scarf. I’m dead tired; I’ve been awake for 24+ hours after taking a day-long exam. I just want to go to Wal-Mart in peace to pick up Lysol and paper towels, come back, eat dinner and go to sleep. Instead in the lobby of my apt. building I run into a group of people I least want to run into. Disingenuous stares of people I don’t know and some I wish I didn’t know. I’m too tired to be mortified to laugh away the awkwardness of the situation. I mumble a few helloes and force myself not to look back or roll my eyes as I walk out the front door. If only I had taken the stairs this could have been avoided altogether. I guess the only saving grace was that I wasn’t forced to spend even more of an awkward silence sharing an elevator. If bad timing somehow cannot be avoided, I just wish when I talked away I wasn’t imagining pitiful gazes plastered on their faces. It also doesn’t help if the girl you used to make fun of is now best friends with the guy you used to like. At that point is it bad luck, bad timing, or bad karma rearing its ugly head?
3. hot or not, an hour is apparently more than I can take of Guy Ritchie. Snatch, Lock, stock and two smoking barrels, it doesn’t matter. Why is it every time I watch a Guy Ritchie film I find him hot, I dig the accents and the plot seems like it’ll be interesting? But 50 mins into it, the plots gone off track I can no longer follow it, I’m trying harder and harder to pay attention but the accents become distracting and because I can’t understand the characters or follow the plot I’m falling asleep in the couch? That said, I’m not saying I wouldn’t mind being in Madonna’s shoes. I just wouldn’t watch my husband’s films, they’d put me to sleep.
1. Prof’s who post office hours and when you show up to ask a question they snap at you because they’re typing up ppt. notes for a class they have to teach in 30 mins. At that point wouldn’t that be normal office work(.ie. your job) and not office hours you assigned at the beginning of term in which students could come during designated times to ask questions they have. Don’t call it office hours- call it frantically preparing for class-leave me alone hour. Don’t leave your door open. Don’t say come back another time because the only time to find you is when you’ve designated office hour.
I now know this means not really office hour but hour in which I have my door open and snap a students who think because it says office hour and the door door’s open they can come in and ask a question-but really they can’t. thanks, good to know.
2. bad luck or rather bad timing. Why does it have to happen, and if it does have to happen why can’t I look fantabulous when I run into people I want to avoid? Picture it: its 7 o’clock on a Friday night I’m scrubbing it in flip-flops, old sweats, an un-matched top and my glasses. My hair’s unwashed and thrown together with a hair tie and head scarf. I’m dead tired; I’ve been awake for 24+ hours after taking a day-long exam. I just want to go to Wal-Mart in peace to pick up Lysol and paper towels, come back, eat dinner and go to sleep. Instead in the lobby of my apt. building I run into a group of people I least want to run into. Disingenuous stares of people I don’t know and some I wish I didn’t know. I’m too tired to be mortified to laugh away the awkwardness of the situation. I mumble a few helloes and force myself not to look back or roll my eyes as I walk out the front door. If only I had taken the stairs this could have been avoided altogether. I guess the only saving grace was that I wasn’t forced to spend even more of an awkward silence sharing an elevator. If bad timing somehow cannot be avoided, I just wish when I talked away I wasn’t imagining pitiful gazes plastered on their faces. It also doesn’t help if the girl you used to make fun of is now best friends with the guy you used to like. At that point is it bad luck, bad timing, or bad karma rearing its ugly head?
3. hot or not, an hour is apparently more than I can take of Guy Ritchie. Snatch, Lock, stock and two smoking barrels, it doesn’t matter. Why is it every time I watch a Guy Ritchie film I find him hot, I dig the accents and the plot seems like it’ll be interesting? But 50 mins into it, the plots gone off track I can no longer follow it, I’m trying harder and harder to pay attention but the accents become distracting and because I can’t understand the characters or follow the plot I’m falling asleep in the couch? That said, I’m not saying I wouldn’t mind being in Madonna’s shoes. I just wouldn’t watch my husband’s films, they’d put me to sleep.