I promised to write a post about my freshman, John, today, but, well, I have to admit that I'm not entirely sure what to write about him. Honestly, he's highly amusing in his own right, when he's not abusing me for saying "Macbeth" or not-so-subtly hinting that I need to hurry up and finish The Summoner (by Gail Z. Martin) so I can start the next Patrick Rothfuss book. The problem I'm having is clearly remembering anything that's happened this year, let alone putting anything amusing into words.
Now that the sun's back, it feels like it's still September, and I'm still about a week off from first introducing myself as "a senior in denial," because, as we all know, I really, really didn't want graduate back then. Seriously, this is impossible. You know what John? No. I quit. This is asking to much of my Saturday afternoon brain.
Instead, I'll opt to beat a dead horse to death, and tell a story about my cat. Eventually I'll run out of stories to tell about her. I expect this will occur in about twenty years when she's too dead to give me anything new to talk about.
So, go watch an episode of Recess. Chances are, TJ tried to convince Miss Grotke that, "My dog ate my homework," after tearing it up something that looks suspiciously like unfinished homework with his own mouth. Anyone smart knows that no teacher in their right mind will accept that excuse for late or mysteriously absent homework, and yet TJ tries anyway. Really, TJ, it's just better to convince your parents that if you don't do this paper, you really will fail this time, you're not lying, you promise, and you're too sick to go to school anyway *cough cough* and maybe, just maybe, you could stay home and work on your paper in front of the TV all day? You can't get away with claiming to have a dog that just so happens to have a hankering for paper with graphite seasoning, boy. Kids who claim to have a homework devouring feline? Well, they're just stupid. They should probably get held back for being that stupid, I mean, seriously? So, congrats, TJ, you're not me.
The problem, of course, is when your cat actually does 'eat' your homework. Meet, once again Squeaker. She likes hip-hop, metal, and the sound of food being dropped on the floor. Oh, did I mention she likes to tear pieces of paper into a billion smaller pieces, just because she can?
When I was in fifth grade, my math homework almost fell victim to her vindictive mastication. She chewed the corner off before I realized what she was doing and just spat it out on the table. I was forced into the tedious task of copying my homework onto a new set of papers out of shame. I mean, submitting a piece of homework that fell victim to a splatter from a drink or a minor spill is one thing - it shows dedication, you know? Like, "I'm going to fucking do this homework while I drink my pepsi, because I'm that damn dedicated to finishing it before Angry Beavers comes on." But a paper that has been inside your cat's mouth? That's just. That's like going over to a strangers house and cleaning up everything, including the dirty drawers* in the corner.
It's like waking up with a cat's butt-fluffly making physical contact with your face - something that I have, unfortunately, also experienced (Damn you, Squeaker, you adorable cretin!). When you realize what's happened, you feel dirty, and there's no soap in the world that will wash that feeling away. The best you can hope for is soap strong enough to burn your flesh off, and even that won't work.
*You can decide for yourself what I mean by drawers.
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