Nine weeks into this semester, and heads are starting to crack. Everyone on campus has a slight, involuntary twitching of their facial muscles. If you stepped into my biology class, you might think that you stepped into a mental institution, where even the professor seems like a crazy old man with a bad case of mysophobia (read: fear of germs).

Today, while taking a quiz, it was as though everyone was off in his or her own little world.

Prof: Tell me, in one word, what a plasmid is.

PMSing Girl: CHOCOLATE!

Blythe: [confused look on face] huh?

Black Guy: [singing to self] buh buh Bah buh…

Prof: [scratches head, mumbles quietly to self] Hm…what did I mean by this…Ah! Tell me, in one word, what type of relationship a lichen demonstrates.

PMSing Girl: Peanut Butter and CHOCOLATE!

Blythe: [scoffs] A homosexual one.

Black Guy: [singing to self] buh buh Bah buh…

Cross Country Girl: [rocks back and forth]

Prof: [furls brow] I don’t know what I wrote here. We’re done. Put your pens up.

PMSing Girl: CHOCOLATE TIME!

Prof: Yes, yes, you may have some chocolate.

Blythe: [snores quietly]

Black Guy: [singing to self] buh buh Bah buh…

Before the quiz, a lady gave a Power Point presentation on an experiment she did at a lab over the summer. After she literally put two-thirds of the class to sleep (no one understood what she was talking about), and she finally got to the “Results” part of her experiment, she ended with:

I never found out the results of my experiment. The doctor who was leading the testing was sick and a whole bunch of stuff was broken anyways.

Lovely.