Class

Whew. Deeps breaths in, Deep breaths out.
I’ve just been through the single most stress-inducing activity any large state university student can do: online class registration. As the digital clock binged eight o’clock, roughly five thousand of my closest friends and I with more than ninety credit hours but less than one hundred twenty clicked on the exact same button and began the process of signing up for next Fall’s classes. Needless to say, this nearly always results in the school’s website crashing and no one ever getting the classes they want.
This year, I’m happy to say that it didn’t happen. I got [most of] the classes I needed and even a few that I’m pretty excited about. Much relieved.

The rest of my day wasn’t nearly as stressful-it was actually really pleasant. I passed my latest translation exam with flying colors, got free cookies from the communist students’ bake non-sale, and set a new record in my British Civilization class.

Brit Civ is taught in English by a Frenchman, but this particular Frenchman does not, in fact, speak English. I feel pretty bad for the poor fellow; it’s clear that he’s just printed off all of his notes from the internet and he’s not really confident in the subject matter to begin with-just a bad situation all around. While I love hate to laugh at another person’s faults, he has one tick that I can’t help but smile about-he uses the word “actually” at least once in every sentence. I think he thinks it makes him sound smarter.
I’ve taken to tallying up the “actuallys” while I listen in class (it helps me pay attention, I promise), and today was a record! One hundred four actuallys in sixty-five minutes. Now that’s what I call dedication, and a good laugh.

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