More Like Worst Day of School

Santa, Easter Bunny, and Syllabus Week. What do they all have in common? None of them are real. Syllabus Week is dead. Its a lost art form. If I have one more professor chuckle trying to be buddy buddy with the class saying "at least I'll let you out early today" and then not let me out early, I'm gonna lose my shit.  I'm in college so believe it or not,  I can read, just give me my syllabus, so I can never read it anyway and then lets all go on our merry way.

Stop making me jump through hoops with your "introduce yourself to the class" exercise so I can go eat the breakfast I skipped. Which a little FYI if I was ever in your class, I ALWAYS lied during the introduce yourself game. I'll say I'm a foreign exchange student from China when I'm a big white dude with a beard. What're you gonna do, tell me thats not who I am? You don't know me. I think everyone should lie in those games from here on out. How many times can we hear the same answer of "I have a job, I'm a junior, and I like football." until we get fed up?

Then theres the whole seat issue. When you have to figure out where your unofficially official seat will be for the rest of the semester. If someone takes my seat, it's musical chairs warfare until you stop trying two weeks in and give me my rightful throne I picked on the first day. Third row, two rows from the right: far enough to use my phone, close enough to go under the radar. But if I wanna change my seat, which I do for my Wednesday 10:00 am class, tough shit pal seats aren't assigned. Plus the kid in front of me is so polite that I can't tell if he's genuine or actually being a sarcastic shithead. I am not about to play mind games with him for the next 16 weeks.

Wine Wednesday and the Race for Pink Moscato

Ahhhh Gallettes, the armpit of the strip. I don't know how you do it, you bastard, but you've found a way to become the guilty pleasure of a campus. Seven times out of ten going to the bathroom you will either a) witness someone throwing up, or b) walk into a stall with throw up staring you in the face from the bowl. But you know what? It works. Gimme it all. Give me a five dollar bottle of wine even if you ran out of the best flavor in the first forty minutes. Give me the puke bathrooms, the clouds of cigarette smoke, and the sticky floor. Cause you know what? The second those floodgates open, and the drunken mass of people rush to that back room, Gallettes has already won. At that point I've already gone back on my promise to go to class in the morning and shut my first alarm off. The girl from my lab has been rubbing up on me and I'm in the middle of the dance floor swigging out of a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Gallettes: Undisputed Champion of Wednesday.