Timeless Tuesday

On the surface, I'm as cool as a cucumber.

As I type, I'm sitting in class listening to my professor lecture. I have my textbook open next to me, dutifully glancing over from time to time as though I'm double-checking the prof's latest statement. Every now and then, I even make a point to look up, make eye contact, and give a solid nod or pause and frown just a smidge to give the impression that I'm really chewing on the matter at hand.

In reality, my mind might explode at any moment.

I've been in this building, on this floor, since 9 this morning. The only times I've gotten up are to run to the lou once or twice and to meet the Jimmy John's delivery guy out in the hallway-- we're very close, Jimmy John and I. My "sit bones" have made a dent in my not-so-ergonomic chair and the weird inside button on my trouser waist has made a less than adorable indentation on my stomach. All this stillness makes me want to kick off my heels and cartwheel down the hallway. Do something, anything, that would pick up the pace a little bit.

It appears that time is standing still on this Tuesday, pun intended.

I feel like I'm in a 90s teen sitcom watching the minute hand on the clock tick by slowly and audibly, like as soon as the bell rings we'll all run out into the hall and spontaneously bust into a musical number. Okay, I went from Saved by the Bell to Grease mid-example, but that's because my mind is in overdrive to compensate for my body's never-ending stillness.