The Dirtier, The Better
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to find a position in the hard wooden desk that wouldn’t cause my ass to go numb. Just five more minutes. Five more minutes and then my weekend could begin. I hated friday classes. They always seemed to drag on, and this one was no different. And to make matters worse, this particular lecture took place in the oldest classroom on campus, complete with hard wooden chairs circa 1904. I put my pen down, clenching and unclenching my tired fingers as I continued to listen to Dr. Cross’s rousing lecture on skeletal muscle physiology. Glancing around the room, I noticed the rest of the class was just as bored as I was. Slumping back into my seat, I crossed my arms and began to wait out the last …