Today I walked into my philosphy class and noticed that while I was sick last week my philosophy professor seemingly morphed from his fat gut, white beard, Santa Claus's brother with breathing complications self, into a fit-ish, 40 year old dude (with seemingly no flem build up in his throat).
He'd also changed his name.
I stepped out of the class, to make sure I had gone to the right one. Yup, it's the right room. Then I start to think, 'what day is it?'
Yup, it's Tuesday- I'm in the right room.
Who the hell is this guy? Who the hell is the woman in the business suite standing in the corner with a Medusa like scowl on her face. Where the hell is the professor?
Well the answers to those seemingly obvious questions never came. My original Philosophy proffessor could've been abducted by, and gang banged by extraterestrial sex offenders and I would be none the wiser. Or he could've been fired for being bad at his job.
Or he could have health issues which would explain that flem.
But like age old question of 'how many licks to the center of a totsie pop' the world is never going to get an answer. Just gotta focus on the future and keep moving.
And continue to pray for a good grade.
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