So yeah, I’ve been to school now … but only in the sense that one has been to the store, or been to the dentist in the last six months. I still haven’t actually attended anything. And in the spirit of historical clarification, that means no public, private, or college education. Should I be ashamed of that? I don’t think so. It means my parents cared enough to make sure that I was taught their values on equal par with ‘book learning’, and to make sure I understood that home is the coolest place to hang out and family are the coolest people to hang with. (If I don’t show it yet, guys, just hang on. It’ll come.) Yes, I was homeschooled. Happy now?

Anyway, I went to CCBC for my Voiceover course without my letter that told me in which building and room to search for the class. (Stupid. Of course I’ll know better next time. If there is a next time.) After wandering around for half an hour, I called Dad and made him rifle through my flat file (read: messy desk top) to discover that I was in the right building all along, and it was everyone else that was wrong. (HA! Told you, for once. Don’t you wish you were right all the time?) Or at least, everyone else wasn’t there. The class had been canceled, which I found out once I looked in Room 201 and saw the big message on the board, due to ‘BAD FLU’.

I scrawled a neat get-well message below the ‘BAD FLU’, and went home, secure and happy in the knowledge that I wasn’t half an hour late for the class after all.