The Beatings Will Continue Until Further Notice.

I attended all of my classes this week, they consist of a chemistry lecture, trigonometry, and chemistry lab. I think trig will be the easiest of the lot, I probably have a huge advantage remembering SOH CAH TOA, even though I can't apply it to anything but a mantra, or perhaps some vexing grafitti. It is in the same room as algebra was, and I even sit in the same seat. Where the 20 year old mother of 5 previosuly sat is a stocky guy with either a high quality prison tattoo or a tatto that I hope he got a discount on. Where That Guy used to sit is a new That Guy, and rather than being a smarmy 19 year old he is a 35ish man who will not shut up and looks like he just got through doing hard time. I am one of 3 women in a class of 25 or so. I haven't counted because I am too afraid of making eye contact and getting cut or shivved. It's a rough looking class. The teacher looks to be about 32 years old and rarely smiles or bears his fullbody weight, for he tends to loll against the dry erase board while he's asking us if we got the same answer as he did on his calculator. Because I missed the first class he told me I didn't have to take the quiz. But when he passed them out he handed me one and told me to take it for fun. Rather than ask if he was high I did the best I could. I even figured out a couple! There was one question that I had no f-ing clue about. It went something like this: "Find the length of the arc in centimeters if the thingy is 30 degrees and it's the first new moon of Spring." So after some head scratching, I settled on "I would rather not. I'll have my secretary get back to you on that one." And then I turned it in.

Chem lab was only twice as painful as I feared it would be. I got a BA instead of a BS because I despise class labs with the intensity of a thousand fiery suns. Science has caught up with me, and I must submit to its torture. Thursday's torment was in the form of Excel. I love Excel, I do my budgets and timelines and work out schedules on it. But I had to make a graph, and I had no idea how to make a graph. Neither did my lab partner, who looks like an angel and swears like a sailor. I think we'll do well together. The teacher was not helpful and another girl from our table wound up taking pity on us and actually finishing the assignment for us. Part of me said "Make her stop! You have integrity!" The other part said "Shut up, goody-two shoes, principles will not stand in the way of a passing grade THIS time." I figure I'll learn Excel charts later, and hope it isn't on the test. We each got a key to a drawer of equipment. My car and house keys have been missing for almost three weeks, so I wondered how I could screw up stewardship of this key. I learned a few hours later. After answering nature's call, I rearranged my attire, and the key flipped violently out of my pocket. Nothing has ever flipped out of my pants pocket, so naturally the first time it happens the key lands in the toilet. The less-than-fresh-feeling toilet. I screamed "FUCK!" so loudly I woke my housemate and aroused the concern of MacGyver. I let him know that nothing was bleeding or broken, but I needed a stick. Salvation was a pair of chopsticks. Then I used so much bleach I could have eaten off of that key (but not with those chopsticks), except why would I be retarded enough to do that? And what would fit on it, anyway? Croutons?