A prostitute and pizza

I woke up stressed out because my mycology report feels like a shit show but I have to find a printer and print it before class at 10:30 and I have a class wedged right into the middle of my morning that makes that exceedingly difficult. I haven’t picked up my ID yet and couldn’t find the copy center to load money to go to the library and print, so I tried to text a guy who was running a business of printing out of his dorm room in Emona hostel but he didn’t message me back. As a last resort, I messaged Martha who came through and was able to print everything for me super fast and didn’t charge me anything, so she’s the MVP this week. It was after that that I ran back to the dorm to scarf down food and change into closed-toed shoes and my lab coat.

When I got to class Vetu, this boy who sits behind me messaged me. The quick and dirty is that he thought I was cute as soon as I walked into class the first day and he stole my number out of the class group chat to flirt with me but then he never said anything to my face so I brushed him off and ignored him because guess what boys? Girls don’t just start to exist when you see them walking past you if you’re interested you have to put in some actual effort. So, now it’s been about two weeks since the last time I said anything of any substance to him because I’m over it. What does he message me, you might ask? “I want to tell you something, but you have to promise you’ll keep an open mind.” I responded with “okay.” Not, ‘I promise,’ or ‘okay, tell me.’ A very stand-offish I-don’t-actually-give-a-fuck-what-you-say-to-me ‘okay.’ And then he proceeded to solicit me for sex like a prostitute. Needless to say, I was extremely offended.

My mycology lab was a study in long, drawn-out nonsense. We cut a piece of a mushroom off and put it in agar. That was literally it. For what was supposed to be a 3-hour lab. At least this time I got to do my own instead of watching a lab tech do it for me.

Elizabeth and I grabbed lunch from the staff cafeteria and then sat in the grass and talked and I studied for my positive psychology test for a bit. It was at 2:30 and in a different super special secret testing room which basically looked like what I took the SAT’s in. A giant gymnasium filled with rows of desks. We had to sit with a row between us and there were three versions of the test. It was five questions. Five. Fucking. Questions. And they were the easiest questions I had ever seen in my life. It took me ten minutes to finish the test and leave. Later, everyone was complaining in the group chat claiming the test wasn’t fair and whining about wanting to be able to choose which version they were given. Like, who the fuck gave you such a privileged idea of what a college education is like? I will probably be cowed though if I get anything less than an A because those questions were straight out of psychology for dummies and I provided a much more comprehensive and detailed view than what the questions asked for.

When I got back to the dorm I watched Hidden Figures in honor of Katherine Johnson’s recent demise and then went to choir practice which started at six on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Today was ridiculously fun, we got to sing a lot of upbeat songs and danced around the room and I became accepted as the token white girl of the choir.

Ndwana, one of the girls I met on Valentine’s day at the outdoor market, invited me to go to Thomas’s house for a movie night with a big group of people. We bought pizza and drank vodka guava juice cocktails and played cards against humanity and a movie never appeared. Somehow I stayed out until midnight but damn it was fun.

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