whiski_sour | Maybe it's the moon

I thought there was no way my psych professor, Dr. Bopp, could compete with

disgruntledjenn's psych professor, Professor Boyd.

Until today.

Dr. Bopp may not be hot or Scottish, but he will, when driven to a certain point of aggitation and frustration with the quality of over head projector markers, stick them up his nose and in his ears. And then address the class in a most serious manner without cracking a smile. It was the most fascinating and amusing thing I've ever paid hundreds of dollars for.

However, my giddiness over the marker incident has been tempered by the fact that I have lost my Scottish thistle charm. Again. This is the second one. I remember pulling out my necklace in psych class and seeing it on the chain, but when I pulled my necklace out of my shirt just a few minutes ago, it was gone. I checked inside my shirt. I checked my clevage and fat rolls. Nothing. No clue where it could be.

I guess that confirms the family legend. Not only were we kicked out of Scotland, but now anything related to the country rejects us. I'm sure if I were to ever try haggis, it would probably attempt to crawl off the plate to get away from me.

That's an appetizing thought, innit?

I should have known this day was gonna be off-kilter since I've being going the whole day thinking it's Wednesday, despite the fact that I went to school and I don't have school on Wednesdays.

Maybe I need a do-over.