I'm a total fiend. It's been three classes since I've had a smoke.
I feel like Tyrone Biggums.
You all might not realize the extent of the pain and suffering I'm going through right now. I mean, here I am, sitting in the back row of my Fundamentals of Wellness course, twitching like Tweek from "South Park" and scratching my neck like a crackhead.
UBreathe free? I feel like I'm suffocating.
Let me start at the beginning.
I got to campus today and attended my Canadian Politics class like any other day, feeling like a real champ. Four cups of coffee, two cigarettes and a little bit of [censored by The Spectrum] on the drive up the thruway is enough to have anybody ready to face the rigors of UB – namely learning about our neighbors to the North.
Normally, after class, I'd stop by the Capen Library or post up outside of Starbucks to have another cigarette before the start of my next course.
I'd usually find some of my other cig-smoking buddies there too. We'd talk about stuff that cig-smokers like us normally talk about. You know, like what size of rims to put on a red '93 Camry or how some jerk-off robbed me on the river by catching a lucky flush when I had him beat before the flop.
Safe to say, it was a nice break from Canadian Politics.
Anyway, now I can't do that with these new rules. So I just headed straight to my next class and actually arrived early, which was totally weird. Everyone was just sitting there texting, catching up on the assigned readings or doing their best to avoid eye contact with the rest of the class.
I felt left out, so I texted my buddy: "18-inch spinners."
Despite my lack of nicotine nourishment I was doing fine. I still wasn't feeling as good as I'd normally feel at that time of day, but that was just at the beginning of American Sign Language class. When it was time to leave I wasn't feeling so hot anymore and started to twitch. I couldn't even sign the letter "C" without making an obscene gesture.
Talk about embarrassing.
I then headed to the class I'm in now, Fundamentals of Wellness, but ironically I wasn't feeling well at all. I resolved that I needed to smoke before I lost my mind. I only had 10 minutes before class started, but I decided I would try and make it off campus to smoke.
I didn't even get down Flint Road before I had to turn around knowing I wasn't going to make it to class on time. I don't like being late for class. It might surprise you, but I'm actually serious about my studies. I'm trying to get out of here with my bachelor's degree as soon as possible so I can become a university president.
I had to park in the aptly-named Special Events lot, so being on time wasn't looking good. I sprinted as fast as I could, but as you can probably guess, I'm not exactly in the best running shape. I gasped my way into class three minutes late and I knew what was coming. My professor is a stickler for punctuality.
He got right up in my face. I tried to explain to him that I only had 10 minutes between classes.
"Well, who do you think you are?" he barked back at me. "I teach a class 10 minutes before this one and I've managed to be on time!"
His breath smelled like cigarettes.
