Some things never change...

Usually, I depend on the alarm clock or the shrill screeches of the siblings to rouse me up early, 5am in the morning. This morning however, despite going to bed at a painful 2am in the morning, my eyes fluttered open at around 6am (an hour later than the usual 5am but still on time) and I had class to attend, 2 hours from then. It seemed as if my butt was heavier this morning than it was any other morning. The physical effort it took to inch to the side of the bed and the massive exertion to sit up was so overwhelming, that for a second, I was going to come down with a rare morning disease and miss Uni. Just for a second.
Common sense returned, inspired by the smell of fresh bread and raspberry jam in the kitchen. I honestly don't know how I managed to stand with the amount of strength that small action required. Why hadn't I developed a 6-pack yet with the amount of work I do every morning. Sheesh. How unfair life was.
I detoured a little around the house to evaluate who in the household were awake...everyone. Even my few months only brother was giggling in the room. Honestly. Where did they get their morning zeal from? Meanwhile, I felt like I had just got back from a session of weights (minus the perspiration).

I reached the Uni gates at 7:15am in the morning and already I could feel the heat and humidity building up a pespiration welcoming committee. There is that one miracle- air conditioning, which saves all our souls from the angsty equator running around nearby. Not that I like air-conditioning. I want to feel cooler...not get ship offed to Alaska. Honestly.

There was to be a test this morning and that familiar burn in the insides of my stomach had began. The heady scent of information was overpowering. The panic of not knowing enough repelled the affects of air conditioning so that I resembled one of those anime characters where the camera is zoomed up to the rain drop bead of sweat near the apostrophe eyes.

The seconds that crawled like a snail during class was flashing by, drawing the arrival of the professor and the dreaded test closer. I probably wasn't ready this morning because we had this test every Friday...and I didn't usually panic. Today I was. Nothing seemed to stick. My brain was crumbling into pieces of jig saw that just couldn't match up.

Students poured in, under massive amounts of newspapers from the whole week, trying to get in as much information as they can. To think it was only a multiple choice, true and false question- here we were preparing for what looked like the Finals. Then suddenly, a student stood and it was almost as if she had been an angel sent by God.

Slowly she gestured to her screen and in a loud voice proclaimed;
"This class has been cancelled."
The skies cleared up of all clouds, bright light seared across the darkened plains and a group of chorusing cherubs fluttered invisibly towards us. Oh glory be! There was no class! Alleluia!

The burden was lifted from our shoulders and again we could roam this earth freely, for the plague had passed.

 Unfortunately, our professor was sick and I do hope he gets better soon. I'm glad he took time off today to think about himself and his health and that's our utmost concern. That he takes as loooong as he needs but, just keep updating us on what we need to read up on to keep up.

Hope you get better soon, sir.

This scenario was so famous in Primary School and Secondary School. Looks like, somethings don't change.