So there I am, sitting in my lecture theatre of 150 odd students a very rare occasion at that. Lumped beside a somewhat fashionable girl; you know the type, daddy’s little princess fur coat, designer hand bag, shoes that us mere mortals can only look at through a 5cm thick glass cabinet.
It’s been half way through now just before the 25 minute mark; the point where the lecturers voice becomes a distant mumble as I enter the world of my thoughts, which usually consists of blank nothingness and as a result the expression in my eyes has been described to look like I was about to commit an honour killing. Any ways this is until the deep process of zoning into a better place is disturbed by vibrations on from what seems to be coming from the ground. Looking down I see the girls bag when instantly I inform her that her phone seems to be ringing. As the words left my mouth I realised the vibrations were coming from my pocket, being my own phone ringing. To which I tell her that it was in reality my phone. This pointless story is one of many examples in which I make a fool out of myself on a daily basis.
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