I made a decision yesterday. I was wondering if my massive panic attack earlier in the week was aggravated by caffeine, so I decided to cut out caffeinated beverages for a while and see if it helps me calm down.
In retrospect, it might not have been wise to make that decision the night before my 8 o’clock Saturday morning class.
I realized this at about 2 o’clock last night, when my neighbor’s apartment kept blowing up.
Now, I realize that I have dogs, and they tend to bark when I’m not around to shush them, so I feel like I have to be tolerant of noisy neighbors, but really–if you’re going to turn on a loud, action-packed movie at midnight, please be aware that just because it’s Friday night doesn’t mean that you don’t have neighbors that need to get up early the next morning. The worst part was I’m not even sure which neighbor it was–there didn’t seem to be any difference if I had the windows closed or open.
Long story short, er, shorter, I missed my class this morning. My alarm went off, and, in a state of half-wakefulness, I turned it completely off.
Now, not all was lost, here. I would have forced myself out of bed, but my Art History Professor teaches the same class I have from 8 am to 10:30 am again from 10:35 to 1:15ish, so I made it to the second class–she did tell us we could do that, as long as we let her know we are enrolled in the 8am class.
I have to say, much to my surprise, I think I prefer the 8 am class. I like the students more, at any rate–if you’re going to drag yourself out of bed to go and sit in a darkened room to listen to a lecture about the difference between ionic and doric columns at 8am on a Saturday, it’s because you really want to be there. If you make it at 10:35 on that same Saturday, well–I noticed more people falling asleep and goofing off in the later class then I generally see in the earlier class.
Plus I missed the cute (but unfortunately married) redhead that sits in one row over and two seats up from where I usually sit.
As I was making my way to class this morning, I was laughing at myself. I’m an art major. I was going to an art class. I kept seeing signs pointing the way to the “Friberg Event”. Now, don’t get me wrong, I knew this was probably an exhibit of the works of Arnold Friberg, who taught us that the prophets in the Book of Mormon were all 350 pounds of pure muscle. (I’m not seeing anything on the UVU website to either confirm or deny this suspicion) but I was also reflecting that “Friberg Event” sounds like an astronomical anomaly first observed or described by someone named Friberg.
Yeah. I know.