Thursday, June 5, 2014

The Pen Clicker and The Hulk

In my family, I have a slight reputation when I am hungry. Well, I should clarify and say HANGRY.

They call me The Hulk.

I'm not someone that can wait to eat meals. I have to eat on time at normal breakfast, lunch and dinner hours. If not, I get queasy, then tired and I have one final burst of energy before I feel like this...


I come by this honestly. My mom does the same thing. So do several members of her family as well, but I'll not name them. I mean I figure it's best not to throw everyone under the "I could probably hurt a small village when I'm HANGRY" bus today.

I do my best to avoid this situation. Being pregnant has only exacerbated the problem. Usually, when I have that last little burst of energy I have about an hour before things are Hulk like. But lately, I've got about 20 minutes.

Also, when I'm the Hulk, I do my best not to talk to other people, because well, it's not really nice and not myself. However, when I'm pregnant, it's harder for me to refrain from my opinions.

Enter the pen clicker.

Yesterday, I was running late and raced out of the house as quickly as I could. I forgot to grab my breakfast bar. I stopped at Sonic for a drink. Thankfully, I got something with carbs in it because halfway to the law school, I realized that I didn't have breakfast. I hoped and prayed that I would be okay until I got out of class.

An hour into the class, I heard my tummy grumble.

An hour and a half into the class, I felt queasy.

Two hours into the class I felt tired and I heard a pen click. I looked over and this guy had finished writing a not the professor just gave us. About 30 seconds later, he clicked his pen again because he needed to write another note. When he was done with that note, he clicked his pen again.

Pen clickers are a pet peeve of mine.

I immediately prayed for patience and for God to delay the inevitable.

About 20 minutes later, I felt a slight burst of energy and I was halfway happy.

Twenty minutes after that like clock work, I was not happy. Dude was still click click click click clicking away too.

I huffed. Click click.

I looked around to see if anyone else noticed. Click click.

I checked my phone for decent fodder on social media to find none. CLICK. CLICK.

I puffed. CLICK. FREAKING. CLICK.

I looked around again for some form of mercy in the form of someone sharing my misery.

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. (We hadn't written in awhile and he was bored apparently.)

I worked through my planner for the next few days to get a head start. CLICKITY FREAKING CLACK.

I huffed one last time. I decided that if dude didn't stop his clicking I was going to stage a coup and take his pen so he couldn't click anymore and then mercy of mercies, I heard a faint whisper, "Dude needs to knock it off with the pen clicking before I hurt him." I looked behind me and nodded my head a little too ferociously.

This CLICK CLICKING went on for another 20 minutes.

I wish I could tell that this story has a happy ending, but it doesn't. Today, dude was back in there clicking again. I ate breakfast and brought a snack for the record to keep the green beast at bay, but it still made me nuts.

But today, there were more people complaining. That dude's days as a pen clicker are numbered, I can feel it.

If not, I'll email the class administrator so he can make an announcement. I feel like it's best for all parties involved.

If that doesn't work, I'm buying him a box of cheap ass Bic pens with no clicking abilities for as far as the eye can see.

Signed,

A Pregnant Woman Who is a Part-Time Hulk

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Hi y'all! The name's Samantha. You can call me Sam if you like. I am a lover to a boy I met at Falls Creek in the summer of 2005, that is a student of Jesus, a Sooner born and Sooner bred and when I die I'll be Sooner dead, Democrat by party, blonde to the core, and oldies but goodies kind of girl.
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