In which I live the life of a movie star secret hideout (heh.)

So this morning I was all, "but I want to sleep in!" "But I must go to school!" "But I should go to school, but I want to sleep in!"

So I made sort of a late morning of it, had a nice breakfast and headed up the hill to class. And then I saw one of my professors across the street and waved, and he said, got a minute? I want to talk to you about that reference you asked me for. And so I walked him to the convenience store and we talked about the job I'm applying for and how I'd like him to talk about me to them, and then walked back up to campus and talked about assemblages and diffuse power relations, and then it was late and I figured maybe I'd catch the end of class just to see what happened (it's not my most useful lecture), and then we got coffee, and then this city councilperson walked in and wanted to talk about giving the vote to noncitizens, and you know how I am about voting rights, and an hour later I was wandering in late to my second class.

But that's the grad class, the policy analysis class with the mind-blowingly eccentric incoherent professor, and so I wasn't too worried about being late except that today we were getting our midterms back. And it had gone HORRIBLY. So I walk in and he's lecturing about how easy the test was and what bad students we are, and he gives me my exam and I got a 35. THIRTY-FIVE. But the mean was a 28.5, the median was a 30, and the highest grade in the whole half-PhD-students class was a 40, so as he wryly put it, "I guess technically this counts as a 'very good.'"

Strange day.