So I'm in my favorite class (Phonetics) on this dreary of a mundane Wednesday morning running on five hours of not-so solid sleep and my brain is dead from studying the works of Mill, Marx, Schopenhauer, Shelley, and Freud (Curse philosophers. By the way, one of those is not like others, I'll leave you to figure out which one.) I spilled coffee on my hand at Starbucks, my contacts are sticking to my eyelids, and some one took my favorite front row, middle seat. I have a long day ahead of me, which includes God forsaken track practice and my ever favorite philosophy class (curse philosophers again.) It is definitely not a happy hump day and, all things considered, I'm not on my A game. I'm not even on my B game. And if there were a C game, I bet I'd be absent from that one too. In fact, I got lost on the way to the ball park. So we're learning Phonetic transcription, duh. And we were practicing our voiceless lingua alveolar fricatives...also known as the S sound....
I like geography best because mountains & rivers know the secret: Pay no attention to boundaries.