I loved that anthropology course so much that I would read and read late into the night, inevitably falling fast asleep only a little way into the next day’s lecture. I missed almost everything the professor said.
Boy, was he surprised when I aced the course! He was even more surprised when I asked him to write me a letter of recommendation. He frowned—wasn’t I that student who consistently zonked out in the second row?
With my twisted adolescent thinking, I viewed my heavy classtime sleeping as strong evidence of excitement about his course. My exhaustion was intimately linked with my good intentions. I couldn’t see why he didn’t share my perspective on the matter!
