Some time around week 13, a subpopulation of students emerges from the darkest corners of Claremont and Cathedral Gardens. They look vaguely familiar, as their faces remind you of the sound of the Hamilton elevator ringing open at 2:47. In their hands are readings from weeks ago, which appear pale and neglected from the lack of any form of annotation. You finally piece it together… the person you thought had dumped the class after iMessaging and Amazon Priming through add/drop actually held onto the course. How the hell were they remotely making it through this class??
They attentively listened in on each person’s questions for the professor, progressively scrunching their face harder and harder until all of their features resembled a unified question mark. They took a deep breath and sighed, and you understood without spending a day in Elementary Sighing I: “I’m FUCKED.” Eventually, it was their turn to talk to the professor, to whom they asked “is there any extra credit?” The professor’s face turned into an even harder question mark than the student’s. “Are you…. in my class?” they responded.
If you see one of these guys or gals hanging around your professor’s door, be kind. Maybe share your notes, or at least tell them where the study guide is (some professors are less equipped to use Courseworks than guinea pigs are). Who knows why they haven’t gone to class all semester. And if this sounds something like yourself… good luck charlie.