…namely, I forgot to blog before class today. So now I got like 70 minutes to do 1000 words.

That’s not even fifteen words a minute, No freaking problem.

Today was my long day, the day I have two classes back to back. Creative Writing, then Linguistics.

Creative Writing was fun and slightly socially scary, as it should be. So far, there’s been no repeats of the massive panic attack I had on the first day of class. Then again, I haven’t been asked to catch someone’s eye again either.

Must stay focused. Mind wandering. Difficulty staying on track. Caveman sentence structure. Not good.

Sadly, during Creative Writing, the fire alarm went off and we all had to go outside to our class’ gathering point. Then we all had to wait there until the firefighters told us we could go back in.

At first, we all assumed it was a drill. Apparently, according to my prof, there had been a drill during her class at the Surrey campus lately. But as the emergency vehicles arrived and began to accumulate, we started to wonder if maybe we were wrong.

By the time the third hose truck arrived, we figured, this had to be real.

Luckily, I had brought my coat and my tablet, but there was nowhere to sit. And that is a very big problem when you are a 42 year old fat man with a bad knee that gets a lot worse in the cold.

So while we waited, I could feel my leg muscles starting to quiver. And I seriously considered breaking from the group and sitting down on the steps to the school. That’s certainly what a more Asperger’s version of me would have done. But I decided to stick it out because I am trying to become a better socialized monkey and part of that is sticking with your group instead of pointlessly disconnecting from them and demonstrating that you do not feel any connection to others and are therefore not to be trusted.

That’s how normal people see you when you pull shit like that. They might not be able to explain it, but that is the message you are sending. There’s being independent and then there’s being a dick.

Anyhow, I ended up having to stand outside in the cold (my legs, alas, only had a little denim to protect them) for half an hour as my poor fat guy legs started trembling and hurting like a son of a bitch.

Then the firefighters said we go in, and I thought I was home free…. until I realized I now had to walk up three flights of stairs. And these were not the nice friendly shallow and plentiful stairs from the entrances. No, these were much steeper and I was climbing them with legs that were already tired out and wobbly from all the standing.

So that hurt like a cocksucker. By the time I got to class and sat down, I was having heart palpitations and my legs felt like they had been tied into knots then left in a freezer.

When class resumed, I was surprised to see that not everyone had come back, and that once the professor gave permission, a bunch more went home. And class ended twenty minutes early.

The prof said people could go home if they were shaken up by the experience. And I suppose that is the standard human response. But I have lived in a bunch of places that had “someone burned something on the stove” type fire alarms go off on a fairly regular basis, so when I hear that bell, I just groan and pick up my stuff and shuffle out.

To me, it’s not exciting, it’s irritating.

Obviously, I came back and stayed. I am paying for my education and Creative Writing is my major. And I like the prof and the subject. I guess that makes me a dedicated student. But I see it as just being mature enough to fully choose to go to school without feeling like it’s a cage you have to escape at the slightest opportunity. I went to school today fully intending to learn, so that’s what I did,

Besides, I had another class after Creative Writing, so it’s not like I could go home anyway.

Class ending early did allow me to improvise a meal with the seven bucks I had left. So my dinner was a toasted garlic and cheese bagel and a whole wheat carrot muffin from Tim’s and a can of Sprite Zero from the HFC-free vending machines on the third floor.

And I was really proud of my resourcefulness in being able to put together a fairly decent meal and still be on budget. But then I remembered I still needed cab fare. Dammit.

So I had to find the campus ATM and get $20 off my reloadable credit card. I felt bad taking money from there, which is supposed to my educational fund, but I was in no mood to walk home.

Even with my fancy new headphones. I was too tired and too worn out to walk home when it was too goddamned cold. So, I got my 20 and spent 7 of it on the cab.

I suppose I could deposit the remaining 13 when I got to cash my check on Thursday. You know, if the guilt is driving me mad.

Took the cab forever to arrive, which pissed me off, as I have no choice but to wait for it outside. If I had a cellphone, I could just give the dispatcher the number and the cabbie could call me when he arrives.

I can receive texts, though. So I suppose I could ask that the cabbie text me when he arrives.

If I get that shit going, I will be way more patient about how long it takes for the can to show up. So it’s worth their while to indulge me on that.

Anyhow, it was a semi-eventful day and I discovered many new things, including the fact that Tim Horton’s whole wheat carrot muffin is delicious.

You heard it here first, folks!

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.