Coffee Monster is my Spirit Animal

Great news everyone! I found my spirit animal. Don’t judge. If people can pick unicorns I can pick him.

.spirit animal

It never says in the movie (Monsters University) but I am pretty certain this guy is a PR major. Look in his giant eyes and see the mix of terror and espresso. I promise that at least one of those is a vanilla soy latte (also known as the life force). And back in his room he has a pint of Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz stored in his roommates freezer.

That poor little monster is realizing that someday he will have to go out into the world and show what he learned in these four years and that someone at some point is not going to like it. Not only will they not like it, they might even hate it. Poor little coffee monster is headed to the library to pour over books and articles that he is constantly reminded are out of date by the time they are published because the big wide world is spinning way to fast for any coffee to help him.

Eventually coffee monster will realize that everything will be ok one way or another everything works out like it is meant to as long as he works his tail off and keeps putting his work out there into the world. They can’t all be misses right?


She Doesn’t Even Go Here!

Actually she probably does go here. Though I am not entirely sure how. I was standing in an incredibly long line for food and using the pause in my day to be productive. While standing there wasting away in the longest line ever, waiting for them to get my order wrong, I couldn’t help but observe the communication happening around me. I immediately regretted this decision as it resulted in my brain being very angry and a little sad.
The girls next to me in line were in a deep conversation. Granted it was a creative one considering that some of the words were not actually words. Here is an excerpt for you:

Thing 1: “He is so unsensitive, she already knows.”

Thing 2: “Seriously! It is like he is being a total douche. You know what? I can’t even right now.”

I really didn’t make it much farther than the first exchange right there. Oh really? Can’t you? Did you supposably figure out the pacifics of the sitch over some pasghetti? The truth is escary, my friends.

Sweet grammar Batman. Get it together. The only thing I could think of to respond would be the following memes. Thankfully there is a sitcom quote for every situation.


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Trapped in the Men’s Room

Everyone has those mornings. You know what I am talking about. The mornings where you wake up late, run to class, and forget to pee. Today was that day and the place was the Business college, where they expect you to be a serious grown up at all times.

I realized about half way through my 80 minute class that I had to pee. I am talking dancing in my seat like a kindergardener on their 4th juice box.  When class let out I practically ran (which was speed hobbling because, again, I had to pee) to the bathroom.  All of a sudden I heard a mans voice. I thought about it for a second and realized that the stalls were on the wrong wall. Yes folks, I was in the mens room.   Blinded by the fact I was seeing yellow, I somehow missed the fact that there were urinals against one wall. I was trapped in there, hoping they wouldn’t notice my Jessica Simpson flats under the stall door. Eventually the “bros” left and I escaped the confines of the Business college 1st floor men’s room.

Feeling the need to share this embarrassment with my loving, understanding, caring boyfriend; I texted him about this story. AAAAAND then he took a screenshot and posted it on Facebook. After that, why not share it with the rest of the world.

5 Reasons Scheduling Classes is Harder Than Finals

Why college scheduling is more stressful than finals.

1. Everyone takes the final at the same time. 

Scheduling at Ball State, however, is done online and opened up in waves. So you get to watch a carefully constructed life plan get systematically dismantled as everyone who gets to schedule before you scoops up all open seats.

2. There is a test for everyone who needs one.

There is not a seat for everyone who needs one.  Why only open one section for 20 people when hundreds need the course? What decides who gets that seat is who is quickest to it with the earliest time ticket.

3. Rarely are there many unknowns in a final exam.

When deciding on plans that affect your academic future for at least the next semester, unknowns are pretty common.  A small generic class description, date, and time. That’s all you get. 

4. There is not a hidden prerequisite to taking the final exam.

You don’t walk in to the exam period and they say “Oh actually we forgot to tell you but you had to moon walk in here, read three extra novels, and draw a picture of a cow.”  But when you go to register the carefully crafted brainchild that is a schedule there are 3 prerequisite courses that are no where in the course descriptions.

5… And altogether being a grown up is hard and college is hard and requires copious amounts of caffeine and sugar.


A Traumatic Event That Actually Involved Coffee

College is a time when you learn figure out your future, make lifelong friends that are more like family, and really figure out who you are. Today reaffirmed something I have known about myself since high school.  I am a magnet for awkward situations, most of which are brought about by my klutziness and lack of filter. Today was a klutziness kind of day.

After a long night of studying… or babysitting and watching Brave while playing “Dots” (it is in the app store. Check it out if you want your brain to go numb..but in a good way) I was NOT prepared for an 8 a.m. Not even close. I was especially not in the mood to deal with my sexist-old-bastard of a professor. That part is another rant for another day.

I woke up to the air raid siren that is my alarm, stumbled around in the dark to find a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, stuffed my laptop in to my backpack, and walked to my class armed with a grande black Verona Dark Roast.  I settled myself into my second row seat off to the left of the windowless 1970’s lecture hall. I pulled that micro desktop that doesn’t even fit a notebook, over my lap and pulled out my computer. (By the way I have a bone to pick with whatever genius decided that crap was a good idea). It is important to know that I have a bad habit of putting my coffee cup on the little ledges net to the mousepad on my MacBook.  As the sexist-old-bastard started lecturing about the same thing that we just read about pretty much word for word, my late night of “Dots” and two day old pizza hit me hard. A wrecking ball of exhaustion fueled by habitual sleep deprivation hit me with a force that my wall of Verona Dark Roast could not withstand. Then I fell asleep for a literal 2 seconds. In that literal 2 seconds my hand brushed my coffee cup, just enough to knock it off it’s precarious perch. That paper cup hit the floor and against all logic sounded like a brick. Verona Dark Roast when EVERYWHERE like a tiny atomic caffeine bomb.

Moral of the story: There isn’t really one. I just wanted to write an overdramatic, caffeine fueled description to make this even seem like a bigger deal than it actually was. However, this does not mean that it was not rather embarrassing.

Side note: Quick thank you to the girl next to me who was very nice about the fact that she got splattered by the slow-mo tsunami emanating from the blast zone.