I know you. You're a public relations major. You hate science classes but you have to take them anyway for gen eds. You have already fulfilled your art requirements. You hate math, but you think statistics is okay because it "like has a purpose." You picked up your boyfriend at the airport last night, but first you bought him pineapple because he really likes pineapple and it seemed better than flowers. You really hope theres a curve on the midterm because you got a 5 out of 10 on two quizzes so far. You need to buy a calculator. You didn't understand the homework. Point of fact, you haven't understood it yet this semester.
You might currently be asking yourself, "how does this person who sits in the back of the room know all this about me?" The answer is very, very simple. You, dear, are quite loud. In your daily, futile attempts to start conversation with the extremely hungover boy beside you, you have managed to tell your entire life story to the remainder of the class. Speaking on behalf of my classmates, we really do not care why your boyfriend likes pineapple over flowers, or that you don't get the homework. We don't care what you had for breakfast or the color of your toenails. If we wanted to know, we would look you're wearing flip flops. Please, dear, do humanity a favor and write it down.
Do it the old fashioned way. Right it neatly on a piece of paper with gel pens, fold it in some extremely obscure manner that only junior high girls can unfold, and cunningly pass it to him under the table. Likely, he won't respond, as he is passed out. But he'll see it later.
I assume this matter to be closed.
The very tired guy in the back of the room.