Morning has come as the sun shines on the sleepy students face. His alarm has been going off for an hour, but he's not moving. Suddenly, he stirs and sits up to check the clock.
"Shit!," he exclaims as he realizes he has fifteen minutes to get dressed and get to class.
He picks up his shirt from the night before- it reeks of smoke, stale beer and stripper. Ah, the holy trinity of debauchery.
Finally, dressed in his usual attire; shirt, running shorts and sandals, he dashes out the door, realizing its cold as hell outside. But he's got to get to class, and a little cold won't stop him as he jumps into his car. With a drop of the key the car comes to life, and Van Halen comes blasting from the speakers at ear shattering volumes.
The posted speed limit is 35, but he is managing an impressive 58 when he sees the police officer with the radar gun jump out from behind a tree, a quick lane change and an unplanned left turn elude the police.
Upon arriving at campus the student spends well over 20 minutes trying to find a parking space, finally selecting one nowhere near his class. With a reluctant sigh he heads into Morgan Hall for another lecture. The class is, as usual, bored out of their fucking minds. All the student can think about is trying to get through class without passing out.
He moves through the day, the hangover wearing off. He takes the time to remind himself that he’s not an alcoholic, just a professional.
Finally he comes to his last class of the day. His classmates view him as an idiot, and an asshole, but he doesn’t give a fuck, he knows what he’s about and that’s a goodtime.
After class he heads to the library to get some work done, even though his mind travels elsewhere.
It is late now, around 7:30 and he heads home to eat, shower, change clothes, and figure out where he’s going tonight.
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