Marc

It's Official, I'm FUCKED: I stayed after class today (poetry) to ask the professor a question about my 'works cited' page in my paper. We chatted for a few moments, then I turned to head to the door. This follows:

Prof: While I have you here, there's a question I've been meaning to ask you?
Marc: Sure, what's that?
Prof: I seem to be offending you, by the looks on your face during class. Would you mind telling me what that is about?
Marc: I'm not sure I understand.
Prof: Your face gets all contorted sometimes, like I'm pissing you off in someway.
Marc: *stumble for a second* Well, I'll have to be honest with you ... If that's alright.
Prof: Certainly.
Marc: It's the religion thing. I just don't see why . ... blah, blah, blah. You've heard it all before.

I'm fucked. There's no way around it.

Last night, at the least, was fun. We had yet another serious discussion about religion, in which The Upstairs Broom Girl confessed that she was saved by an 'Act of God' or something to that effect. Not surprising, I guess.

Whatev! I'm so fucked ...