THE DEATH OF AN EXCUSE

*sigh* Those were good days. The days I hit the snooze button a dozen times, finally rolled out of bed and shoved a baseball cap on my head to hide my bed hair, stumbled to the desk, grabbed a notebook, and slowly trundled up the hill to class, secure in the knowledge that I had a good 15 minute buffer--because, though the north face of the clock said I was 20 minutes late, the east face (the one which faced my dorm), said I was a little early.

Apparently they've fixed it. Hence, I post this brief eulogy to a good excuse. If I were still at Hillsdale, I would take my hat off and reveal my bed hair in all its glory, and mourn the lost excuse with a moment of silence. Not being at Hillsdale, I'll just go to bed.