A day in the life of a BYU London Theatre Student

I have a funny little story to tell you. It is more of a personal ritual than a story, but it is 100% true. Some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent. :)

In the morning, May wakes up to the sound of her alarm clock. She stretches a little, then gets up to spend a few minutes in the shower, lovingly dubbed "The Torture Chamber." The Torture Chamber is unique because, unlike most showers, The Torture Chamber does not always mix the hot and cold water. So May crosses her fingers and turns on the shower. She spends about five minutes switching the temperature from blistering hot to absolutely freezing, trying to avoid the spluttering stream of water that fills the entire tub. She fails at finding a happy medium.

She turns off the water, hops out of the shower, and turns on the sink. With the sink running, she turns on The Torture Chamber again. Magical! When the sink is running, the hot and cold water mix! Unfortunately, the sink as to be on full blast for this miracle to occur. The faucet sprays faster than the drain drains, and the sink will soon overflow if May does not hop back out of the shower and turn off the sink. She does so, and the shower water ceases to mix once again. A vicious cycle.

When May is finally done with The Torture Chamber, she makes her bed, organizes her books, and skips down the hall to the shared kitchen. As it were, May does not mind sharing a kitchen with the entire flat, because of the comfortable consistency it offers. The kitchen is consistently over-crowded, the fridge is consistently full of rotting food that no one will claim, and the mountain of dirty dishes by the sink is growing consistently. She begins to realize the truth in the statement that "foolish consistency is the Hob-Goblin of little minds." (Name that author and you get bumped up on the coolness scale).

May exits the kitchen, skips down the hall, snatches her satchel, and is off to class! On the way, once again, she looks the wrong direction while crossing the street and almost gets run over by a cab driver. Like all British Cabby's, he doesn't even try to swerve out of the way in an attempt to miss her. May begins to wonder if, in the Cabby business, there is glory in hitting a pedestrian. Maybe a twenty-year-old college student is something to brag about. She decides this is the case and re-commits herself to be more careful next time she reaches an intersection.

Class, as it were, is horrible dull. May pinches her arms and flexes her leg muscles in an attempt to stay awake, but once again, dozes. She dreams of the dramatic unities, hamartia, Godot, blank verse, and, of course, "Exit, pursued by bear." Just as the dream is starting to get good, the student next to her comments on whatever conversation is going on in the class, arousing her from her peaceful dreams. Class ends.

May spends the rest of the afternoon doing whatever she wants, whenever she wants, where ever she wants. She is satisfied, and at night, climbs into her not-so-cozy bed and sleeps soundly. Such is a day in the life of May.

Yeah, I probably had more fun writing it than you had reading it. I was laughing the whole time.