Oh, my poor English professor. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. Look on the bright side, old chap. It could've been worse. Much worse. Sooo much worse. Disastrous, even.
Today, attending my English class was optional. We could go if we wanted some assistance or just a place to focus. Or we could, you know, not. I was one of the five who went. The professor was asking us all how we were doing on our final project. When he got to me, he asked me if I was doing okay on finding sources, and I just had to laugh. Because frankly, I hadn't even looked. Sure, I'd thought about looking. But actually exerting some effort three weeks before the thing's due? Come on. Don't be silly. So I told him that. Basically. Boy, was it a shock for him when he learned that I was actually a procrastinator. He spent the next 15 minutes just trying to reconcile himself to that. He gave me a lot of funny looks, too.
Well, it's better that he find out now rather than later when I'm in full frenzy mode. Hopefully, it won't come to that. But I never know. Two interviews with professionals in the subject we're researching? Seriously, professor, must you ask so much?
Listening to: an mp3 of feedback on my essay from my professor
Reading: The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen