Oh hey, blog!

I really haven't forgotten about my blog, I promise.

Let's just say that taking seven classes at the U was a very bad idea.

I don't know what's been up with this semester, but all of my classes have been crazy. Everything is a project, not just an assignment. And every single one of my classes has required some sort of group work. In case our professors didn't know, group work is nearly IMPOSSIBLE in college because everyone is ridiculously busy. And there's always going to be the one person in your group who thinks their ideas are the only ones worth discussing, the one who never checks their e-mail or responds to texts, and another who thinks they can coast along and make you do all of the work for them.

In case any of my professors are reading this, I just need you to know one thing: 

I HATE GROUP WORK.

But before I go on a rant here, I must share a recent experience of mine.

About a week ago, I came home to find an older gentleman that I didn't recognize in our building's laundry room. While this may not seem odd, things got a little weird when I walked down the stairs. The man proceeded to remove the shirt he was wearing, and place it in the washing machine. That's right. He just took it off and put it in the washer like it was no big deal. The old man was shirtless. In the laundry room. Yep. As if that wasn't enough, he noticed me walking down the stairs and saw fit to say hello to me, and ask me how my day was. WHILE HE WAS SHIRTLESS. When he came closer to me, I noticed that he had two lazy eyes and was more heavyset than I had originally thought. I had no idea what to do. I quickly gave him a generic answer and opened my door as fast as I could, locking the deadbolt behind me. 

About five minutes went by before I heard the doorbell ring. The first thought that came to my mind was..."that better not be the shirtless old man from the laundry room." I decided to let it go because I didn't remember ordering a pizza, and I really couldn't risk having to see that guy again. Another few minutes passed, and the doorbell rang again. Against my better judgement, I opened the door just a crack. There stood the old man, in all his shirtless glory, with one eye looking at the ground while the other one was trying to focus on me. I can still hardly believe the words that came out of his mouth: "Ya got any magazines?" It took me a minute to answer. "N...nope. Sorry. I don't have any magazines." At this point, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and I was really upset that D wasn't at home so he could share this experience with me. The old man, obviously disappointed, just said "Oh, that's okay," turned his red walker around, and shuffled right back into the laundry room. 

Oh. My. Gosh. Be glad this post has no pictures.

In other news, D and I are beyond excited for Spring Break. If I live through all my midterms, projects, and group work, I will be lounging in sunny Saint George by this time next week. This little vacation will also be our first-ever road trip together. Can't wait for 70 degree weather!