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epitome of incomprehensibility
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This morning, I stepped out of the literature prof's office generally pleased. I'd feared the 5-minute meeting wouldn't go as well as it did.
So I walked towards the library with the comfortable feeling of being both prepared and accommodated, my other worries pushed to the side like the slush on the sidewalk. This prof isn't the type to
a) refuse students who want to do a variation on one of his essay topics
or
b) insist that all students be good at deadlines just because he is.
And I felt good about myself for making a good impression: I'd suggested an essay topic he thought worthwhile! I'd explained that ADHD made it difficult for me to meet deadlines...without rambling too much or sounding whiny! I'd read one of the books the week before class started! Yay me!
So I was walking up to the street to the library, thinking about how I'd get the essay in on time after all, now that I wasn't worried about it. Also, where I'd put my laptop bag when I went to the bathroom - just bring it with me and put it on the stall door hook, I decided...
...and then I realized I only had one bag with me. No!! I needed my computer! Not just for school, but I was tutoring that afternoon after classes.
"Jesus Christ divided by zero!" I swore silently and spontaneously. I'd made that up as a joke, but my upset brain repurposed it as a plaint, then continued with a plea: Please let it not be on the metro...please let me have left it in the office...even though that would be embarrassing, and so much for making a good impression...but please...
I ran back up Mackay, to the row of small stone-faced buildings - International something, Graduate Studies, finally R for Religion. Yes - the prof's office door was still open. Yes - there was my brown flower-patterned cloth bag, leaning against the front chair. He was looking through a bookshelf and didn't seem much bothered by my interruption.
On the steps leading away from Religion, the thought came that I should thank the purported son_of_God: my prayer, as it was, had been answered. "But were you divided by zero?" I queried, and was rewarded by a mental image of Jesus rolling his eyes.
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