I can never remember to write these things down, or carry my recorder with me, so I end up texting myself things I need to remember. Here is a download of last week’s messages to myself.

Friday

dog_licking_lipsSome girl came into the study room I’m using to study for an apparent anatomy exam. She is eating a bag of Skittles while she is reading her notes. I would normally be fine with that, but she isn’t chewing them. She is slurping on them. Slurping on them? Yes, she is making those sounds your grandmother’s ancient dog makes when the family is trying to watch television, and all you can hear is the dog gorging himself on his own balls. It’s that kind of slurping. I think she has ruined Skittles for me. From now on when I see a bag of Skittles, the first thing that is going to come to mind is an old dog trying to lick himself to death.

When Skittle girl finally finished violating her bag of candy, some guy that looked like Einstein came in and sat down at my table. He looked to be close to the same age as Einstein, and had the same frazzled grey hair. He was reading something on his tablet until he coughed then made a loud swallowing noise. (I’m not making this up). He then sneezes, but tries to hold his nose as he does it. It looked like he trapped something in his nose, so he jumps up and moves over to the nearest trash can and spits up a huge lump of something into the can. Now that everyone in the room is watching him each in their own horrified state, he hawks a big wad of spit into the trash can then walks back to his seat like nothing happened. I guess he was worried that he might boogersget something on his tablet, because he pulled a tissue out of his pocket and wiped his nose then placed the tissue back in his pocket. I guess some people think spitting up a lung into an office trash can is ok? He could have used the restroom, but that would have meant walking twenty feet in the opposite direction of the poor trash can.

deadly machineThe building my Pharmacology class is in sits across the street from the main campus. Being a lone building means there are very few amenities like vending machines to get the occasional “please God don’t let me fall asleep” snack during class. There is one vending machine right outside my classroom door, but some genius has set it up so the snackies in the top two rows drop at just the right angle to get wedged in above the bottom row that holds all of the gum. Once the bag is stuck, the machine stops accepting money because it thinks someone is trying to steal from it. This happens to at least three people in my class every week. It’s never the last one in line that jacks up the machine. It’s always the first one. Even though I have seen about eight people lose money in the machine, I still had to try to get my bag of nibbles. And my bag got stuck on the bottom row just like the rest. Before I could shake the machine, one of my classmates, a teeny little thing that couldn’t weight any more than 90 pounds walks up and says she can get my chips out.

Ok.

She then proceeds to beat the living shit out of the machine for about twenty second before my chips drop down. It was one of those times where I was glad I got my chips, but the whole building must have known there was a bag of chips stuck in the machine again. When break time was over, and we all started milling back into the classroom, who was the only one to walk in with a bag of chips?

Me…..

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