Last Friday, I sat in my first ever college-level creative writing course. Yes, I was going to meet other writers attending the same college as me. So young and hopeful...
...Today, I dropped the class.
I told you I was going to, stop looking so surprised. Truth is, I felt a lot better about it. Even my other two "problem classes" Bio II and Public Speaking didn't seem so bad since I knew there was one class I didn't have to go to.
I talked to my mom's friend that works in the library (the one that brought me home since my mom forgot me on my first day last year) and she said half the people in the class don't read the other people's stuff anyway.
Well, less work for me to do, but also, if the people don't take it seriously, I wouldn't have gotten much, if anything, out of it anyway. Go figure.
So, that was one bullet dodged. Now, on to surviving Bio II, and becoming so great a public speaker, I'll make Obama look like Bush.
...hey, don't ruin my fantasy. I can dream, right?