Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Infectious Professors and The Case for the Out of Place Raisins

I'm now starting to believe that it is perfectly acceptable to lip sync to your itunes.

Anywho. Hello everyone! Can you believe that it's already Wednesday evening? Seriously, I'm not sure I can.

On Monday at ten o'clock, my Spanish professor walked into the classroom with a cold. Sitting in the front row as she hacked her head off in my direction, I should have know what was imminent.

For you see, I was greeted at 7:00 AM on Tuesday with a sore throat. Today, it's added the sniffles and drained my energy. It's sufficient to say that I've stocked up on the OJ

And some spray butter that I don't have much use for.
 The peculiar thing about this whole situation came when I entered the classroom for the exam today. When I said that I had gotten sick on Tuesday, the profesora accused me of getting her sick.
...Who was the one coughing on me? Yeah.

They say that students that sit towards the front of classrooms are more likely to get the higher grades. Higher grades or a healthy immune system? What's more important?

Speaking of said exam, I have a question for all y'all out there.

Say you have the option of putting raisins in either fruit salad or rice pudding. Where do you put them? I honestly have no idea, especially since I do not partake in the gag-worthy dessert known as rice pudding. Also, who puts raisins in a fruit salad? Honestly.
If you're completely confused, I had to use the Spanish vocabulary in my exam to put the ingredients with the food. A language test is worrisome enough, now I have to actually analyze the questions?

All this fuss over raisins. My goodness.

The rest of the evening for me includes eating a late dinner with a breakfast theme/pirate theme. And a band. You read that right.

Have you ever gotten sick from a teacher? And where would you put raisins? (Bizarre questions, I know. That's all I've got.)

1 comment:

  1. I've never gotten a cold from a professor. But it's probably time to say sayonara to the spray-butter, sista.

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