From 8:30 AM . . .

. . . until 10:00 AM, Monday and Wednesday, I take a class. In doing so, I've forfeited my lunch, and make-up for it by taking six 30-min breaks throughout the day. It's a Business Math course, and I figured the early hour of the class would make it smaller, and easy for me to get to since my workday starts at 8:00AM. As soon as I registered for the class, I realized I haven't been before 8:45 in the last three years.

Since I rarely have time to change prior to, I wear my standard corporate casual attire in class. I know it puts me on the same rung as the douchenards who wear suits to class, but still, I sit, and follow along to the lecture in my pressed 1MX shirt, pinstripes and tie - trying not to notice that people keep looking over at my garb.

In this math class, the guy next to me keeps asking about whatever the professor just explained. Trying not to be a dick, I'll make an effort to assist. I'm discovering that it helps me to explain in words, what I was able to decipher from the board. Today, before class, he asked me which are the "easy" professors at DePaul.

"I'm not real sure about that."

"Do you only T.A. for her," he asks, pointing to the Professor at the front of the hall.

"Wait, you think I'm a T.A.?"

He seems confused. "Yeah, we all did." The surrounding students all agree that they thought my attire and seat in the back of the classroom were a function of duty, which is absurd: They're a function of my awesomeness.

I ask the kid, "Is that why you keep asking me shit?"

He didn't ask any questions today. And I found I had difficulty following the lecture. I think I've doomed myself to failure.