The View From My Lonely Seat

In the midst of my two band, 110 minutes of agonizing, brain cramping Calculus class my attention drifts from the board and i begin to scan the room for something a little more enticing than the process used to find the antiderivative of natural logarithms. My analysis of the individuals in my classroom is an amiable distraction.

Melissa has attached a ripped rubberband to the end of her lead pencil and is whipping it around. I imagine she is fantasizing that she is Indiana Jones in his earlier flicks, the ones that didn't make you cringe in disappointment.

Joe, who somehow maintains a decent grasp of the nonsensical material that is taught in this insufferable class, sings unknown lyrics that i assume are by Carrie Underwood. I derive this because he's been counting down her birthday for months now and is constantly raving about her. For a straight kid he's far too fascinated with Carrie, i decide; the one firm conclusion I am willing to set in stone in this class.

Dinora, possibly the next instructor of such a miserable bunch of students, is practicing the English language with the help of her crackers. She turns around to show me the output of her studious efforts; her crackers spell out "COWS MOO". I giggle because Click, Clack, Moo, Cows That Type is a classic read in my opinion and i look at her with a little more reverence.

My interest is reinvigorated substantially in the ongoing lesson as i hear Doug utter "Is this a leap year?" shortly after the teacher orders upon us a problem concerning compounding monthly interest. Laughter ensues for about 3 seconds after and the room is again morbidly austere.

I refocus my attention to the topic at hand. I can't make out exactly what we're learning but there are several formulas on the board with an unconstitutional amount of variables in each. Cognition again eludes me so i revert to my earlier inattentiveness. I'm doodling around the notes that I've copied from the board and its all a creative conglomerate of X's and limit symbols and squiggles that the teacher calls "integrals". I choose to make use of the materials made readily available to me and construct an axiom that is as follows:

....lim ......calculus = destruction of my cerebral cortex
Jane->∞

Thus i have concluded that my efforts would be far more effective if put into another line of study, such as observing the absurdity of high school subjects and the maniacal teachers who teach them, analyzing the interesting but tangential actions that others take when imminent failure has been recognized, or a simple third line of work: Mailman because never again would i have to look at numbers more complex than a 5 digit postal code.