Bad things happen when the internet is down
I got to class an hour early on Monday. Unsurprisingly, I was the only one there, apart from the people in the class that was actually meeting then. I walked in twice and stared around blankly, trying in vain to find someone I recognized, before I finally asked a girl what class was meeting. She said something that definitely was not Renaissance Drama, and I rushed out to find where my class had disappeared to. It wasn’t until I had gone to the fifth floor and back that I thought to actually check my schedule.
Since it turned out that I had almost an hour before my class, I decided I should spend my unexpected free time productively. I went to one of the campus computer labs to check my email-the internet was not working in the halls and I was starting to become shaky from withdrawal. The other times I had been, the lab was empty. Expecting the same thing, I slammed into the room (the door sticks). Everyone in the room turned to look at me. Apparently empty is not a constant state for the computer lab. After doing a brief, but impressive, imitation of a deer in headlights, I fled.
To comfort myself, I bought a Milky Way from the Student’s Union. I suffered yet another disappointment when I opened my candy bar, took a large healing bite, prepared for the caramely nougat goodness to wash my pain away, and discovered that British Milky Ways don’t have caramel. That’s not a Milky Way, people, that’s a Three Musketeer. I’m considering being a true American and suing for false advertisement.
Since it turned out that I had almost an hour before my class, I decided I should spend my unexpected free time productively. I went to one of the campus computer labs to check my email-the internet was not working in the halls and I was starting to become shaky from withdrawal. The other times I had been, the lab was empty. Expecting the same thing, I slammed into the room (the door sticks). Everyone in the room turned to look at me. Apparently empty is not a constant state for the computer lab. After doing a brief, but impressive, imitation of a deer in headlights, I fled.
To comfort myself, I bought a Milky Way from the Student’s Union. I suffered yet another disappointment when I opened my candy bar, took a large healing bite, prepared for the caramely nougat goodness to wash my pain away, and discovered that British Milky Ways don’t have caramel. That’s not a Milky Way, people, that’s a Three Musketeer. I’m considering being a true American and suing for false advertisement.