Sometimes, my college class frustrates me. Like a knee-bouncing, impatient, almost agitated frustration at times. I guess this happens from time to time with any gathering of minds–some things are very, very clear to you and not so clear to others…just as some things won’t quite click for me until I listen to another person suss it out more concisely. Some weeks I really, really feel the age/experience gap between myself and my classmates. This week we were going over assigned poems, so it’s no great surprise to find myself a bit impatient.

Let’s also factor in that I was physically drying out for the duration of class as well. The rain, the rain. All day. This morning I knew I would be riding in–even after looking at the weather page and reading “80% chance of rain…all day, sucker.” In my head I rationalized it this way: Oh, 80% you say? Well it isn’t 100% so take that! *guffaw guffaw yawn guffaw* Soaked. And silly me, I opted to wear the shoes with the smallish hole in the rubber sole–oy vey how do some things slip my mind, I wonder?! So yes, drying out in a classroom. My hair ends and chin dripping when I entered.

Then I get out of class and it seems to be just barely sprinkling…no, wait. You were wrong. Here you go, more driving rain. That’s more like it. Just when I’m dry, I’m wet again. Sigh. Ain’t that the way.

No real point to this. Other than delegating a safe place to say “frustrated.”