So here I am, sitting innocently in Pharmacology class, trying desperately to pay attention and frantically filling out notecards from the powerpoint information in an effort to stay conscious, when that wheedling voice in the back of my head suggested that I take a short mental break during an extended discussion on beta 2 agonists and check facebook and email.
The first three status updates on facebook were from three of the missionaries I worked with this summer. After stalking each of their profiles in turn to make sure I wasn’t missing out on anything (as if there is anything I could do about it if I were…), I then found myself following a link off of Amy’s page to a beautifully written note that one of her daughters had posted. Thirty seconds later I got a chat from Belgium, and then one from Zambia, and then another from Zambia. I pulled up email on the side in an effort to multitask. In one of my classes, we all email our essays to each other for peer review. I had read most of them last night since they were due by midnight, but a few came in late. One was about the apathy and frustration of a kid trapped in college while his heart calls him to the mission field. At this point, the familiar restlessness that I've worked so hard to suppress began to stir.
Then, because it was 8:20 on a Monday morning and I had not yet had my weekly Monday Disaster, I accidentally knocked over my bottle of Coke. I scrambled out of the room (barefoot, because I had kicked my shoes off and didn’t take the time to put them back on…) and darted out the door to grab some napkins. Some lady was walking down the hallway with a little girl who was maybe two years old, so naturally I forgot all about the coke dripping off of my laptop and stopped to compliment her on her pigtails (the toddler, not the lady…).
The first three status updates on facebook were from three of the missionaries I worked with this summer. After stalking each of their profiles in turn to make sure I wasn’t missing out on anything (as if there is anything I could do about it if I were…), I then found myself following a link off of Amy’s page to a beautifully written note that one of her daughters had posted. Thirty seconds later I got a chat from Belgium, and then one from Zambia, and then another from Zambia. I pulled up email on the side in an effort to multitask. In one of my classes, we all email our essays to each other for peer review. I had read most of them last night since they were due by midnight, but a few came in late. One was about the apathy and frustration of a kid trapped in college while his heart calls him to the mission field. At this point, the familiar restlessness that I've worked so hard to suppress began to stir.
Then, because it was 8:20 on a Monday morning and I had not yet had my weekly Monday Disaster, I accidentally knocked over my bottle of Coke. I scrambled out of the room (barefoot, because I had kicked my shoes off and didn’t take the time to put them back on…) and darted out the door to grab some napkins. Some lady was walking down the hallway with a little girl who was maybe two years old, so naturally I forgot all about the coke dripping off of my laptop and stopped to compliment her on her pigtails (the toddler, not the lady…).
Upon skidding back into the classroom, I realized that Coca-Cola is a frustratingly sticky concoction and I should have brought some wet towels as well. Too late. I blotted it up as well as I could and stared fixedly at the front wall, hoping my face broadcasted something to the effect of, “Of course I’m paying attention…”
But then I realized that we were now talking about stool softeners, which is tough for anyone to stomach (no pun intended…) before 9 on a Monday morning—even nursing students.
But then I realized that we were now talking about stool softeners, which is tough for anyone to stomach (no pun intended…) before 9 on a Monday morning—even nursing students.
So I decided to blog instead.
(Disclaimer: I really am a good student, I promise… But we all have our days…)
When I pulled up Blogger to type this up, I first checked my blog stats. I’m always fascinated by what backed posts people look at throughout the week. This week’s leader is “Babies Know Best.” It’s been a few weeks since I posted that one and I couldn’t really remember what it was about, so I pulled it up to reread it. That didn’t help my restlessness at all.
Now it’s Convo hour (which, for you non-Bruins, is just a one-hour period on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday where we can accumulate Convo credits, which are graduation requirements, by sitting through often-pointless programs and presentations). If I was a good little Bruin, I would scurry off to some program or another. But I’m not. I’m Meg. So I’m going to climb a tree instead.
It’s Monday, folks. Have a beautiful week.
It’s Monday, folks. Have a beautiful week.
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