I have had dreams like this, I shit you not.
My Accounting Instructor Is Evil
When I finished my test and went to hand it to him, he motioned me in closer and told me to look at the first page.
In this class, the first page is always a signature line, followed by standard blahblah about how we swear we didn’t cheat, if we’re using scantron we have to fill in the circles, etc.
The instructor said, “Look at that sentence.”
“However, you only have to do Problem Number 22 on this test.”
“Nobody picked up on that,” he grinned wickedly.
“You’re evil,” I told him.
My Brane Hurts
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We’re on the final week of classes. Every day has tests and/or projects due. If you see someone walking around with little cartoon angst lines emanating from her head, that would be me.
My drum instructor is teaching us a rhythm in 3/4 time. I don’t know if it’s the workload from school or just general ineptitude, but I can’t seem to get that mother down. Perhaps it’s just the fact that I haven’t had time to practice the damn thing this week.
My eldest just returned from the qualifier meet for the state Special Olympic games. He was tearing up the lanes; he came in first in all the heats he swam by himself. He swam the 100 meter backstroke in under two minutes.
By the time he swam the 200 meter freestyle he was tiring, but he was still going strong. He lapped two of the other swimmers in the heat. When they got to the end of their third lap they saw my kid climbing out of the pool, thought they were done, and started to get out as well. The coaches quickly turned them around to do their fourth lap.
I’m pretty sure he qualified.