Stupid frickin' school

Yeah, I've just about had it with The Thing That Wouldn't Shut Up.

First, he strolls into class about a half hour late last night. Now, this is nothing new. He's usually late, but he seems to make less and less of an effort to get to class on time every dang week.

Second, he sits smack next to me. What he didn't realize was that he'd put himself in a very dangerous place. I was feeling extra bitchy last night, and I actually felt the physical urge to start kicking him under the table. Hard. Like hard enough to leave large bruises. I restrained myself of course, but that man has no idea how close he came to a good shinning.

Third, he once again monopolized the discussion even though he had no frickin' idea what we were discussing. Every time he opened his damned mouth I started feeling that shin kickin' urge again. It never ceases to amaze me how far off the topic he always seems to be. He's quoting scriptures that have no relevance to the discussion, rambling on and on about who knows what, and preaching mini sermons. Gearing up for that future ordaination, I guess. If you look around the room when he starts talking, you'll notice that as soon as he says, "Yeah, when you said that I started thinking about..." (which is the way every ridiculous utterance starts out with him) everyone else in the room gets this zoned out look on their face: the eyes glaze over, the gaze drops to the table, people start picking lint off their clothes or doodling, and the guy who plays games and crap on his laptop all night long totally disengages and drifts into a Sim fantasy world. How does this dumbass not see how the rest of the class reacts to him???

Fourth, we got split up into discussion groups to talk about this reading that was posted online. This other lady and I got stuck with The Thing. She and I are looking at the reading (thank God she printed it out and brought it, because I forgot to bring a copy), and The Thing looks all confused and goes, "Uh, did the teacher hand those out last week?" Um, yeah... you were there last week.... did you get a frickin' handout??? I wanted to just ignore him, but I just couldn't be that cruel... yet. So I tell him all the readings that aren't in the text books are online, JUST LIKE THE PROF TOLD US THEY WOULD BE. He goes, "Ooooh.... I guess I didn't go online." Really? I didn't see that one coming. So he goes up front and asks the prof for an extra copy. He comes back, and we tell him what section we're discussing, and even the page it's on. By this time this other lady and I are pretty much done discussing and are talking about what we're going to present to the class. All of a sudden I hear The Thing reading out loud to himself... AND HE'S READING THE WRONG DAMNED SECTION. Holy crap, could he be any dumber???? So he sidles up and wants to know what we got out of the reading, and what we're going to say about it. We totally ignored him. Then he starts rambling on about God answering people's prayers by giving us the church to provide for us, and how that's the way our cohort works. Yeah, well... pray away for someone to pick up your slack in class and make it easier for you to bullshit your way to a degree, buddy. Just so ya know, it ain't gonna be me. So we just continued to ignore him. I couldn't even LOOK at him I was so pissed. So anyway, each group presents their interpretation of the reading. After our group says its piece, The Thing starts in with his little analogy of our cohort being like the church, there to help others. First of all, that wasn't even a topic in the reading. Second of all, the prof never makes a move to shut him the hell up. Lastly, there's no way in hell any of us are going to go out of our way to help him because he is such a frickin' slacker. God helps those who help themselves, dude. Or those who at least know when to shut their frickin' yaps in class.

I was pissed when I left school, still pissed when I got home, and STILL pissed when I went to bed. And, as you can see, I still haven't quite let go of my anger. But at least I'm not yelling about it anymore.

However, as I write this, I'm sending some telepathic shin kicks The Thing's way. I hope he feels them.