One second, life is happy, peaceful, and beautiful. I’m just about to solve the NYT Connections and preserve my streak forever and ever. The next second, a TF is running to pass me a microphone? I thought TF meant they’d stay tf away from my gaming hour. Alas, now an entire lecture room is staring at me. Crickets.

Okay, let’s take a look around. Maybe someone dug an escape route under my seat? Or maybe the person next to me knows the answer and can telepathically transmit it to me? Maybe the fire alarm will go off right now, and my professor will force the class to evacuate? Maybe someone will step in front of me, catch the microphone mid-air, and say, “You ladies alright?” and answer for me? Just free me from this misery, I beg!

Actually, what even was the question? Was it about my thoughts on the reading? Or was it my thoughts on how to find joy and whimsy outside of this class, because I have loads of knowledge on that? Regardless, maybe a more important question is why cold calling exists in the first place.

Why don’t the TFs just answer their questions themselves since they’re already holding the microphone? Why do extra work? Better yet, pick on a willing and overeager student volunteer (cough cough, everyone’s favorite section kid). Just imagine if I had lost my voice from scaring people all Halloweekend. How could I possibly answer without straining my vocal cords? Clearly, me and my inability to pay attention in lectures are not the problem. It’s not me, it’s you, buddy.

Okay, but my TF is still awkwardly standing in front of me. What should I do? With a drop of optimism, maybe I can Cady Heron my way out of this! Let me just ignore the background noise in my head from all those games of Krillion I played during lecture. Maybe after that mini clean-up, I can conjure up a concept from that reading I was supposed to do.

Maybe this is why the teaching team provided a reading schedule on the first day of class, but even then, how was I supposed to know I would be put to this challenge so soon (nearly two months into classes, mind you)? I fear this might just be a wake-up call. But no, actually, anything is possible. This is possible.

“Hehe, um, well, the thing did that and it was super interesting and, uh, yeah!”

Okay, I might have to skip class for a bit and adopt a completely new look. Maybe I should dye my hair red and change my name. Or, maybe, I’ll have better luck next time. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually review the slides ahead of lecture and annotate my readings. Until then, if anyone needs me, I’ll be eating HUDS cookies under my covers pretending this never happened! #fml