Quiet disappointment

The following was written during class, as the first sentence quickly reveals.

Currently, in my IS class (the class that effectively spawned this blog), there is this girl who absolutely needs to text. It is CRITICAL to this girl that she text during class. It's interesting to me because I have absolutely no desire to talk to anyone before 1 PM, and this girl has an undeniable need at 11 in the morning.
(I am aware that 11 in the morning yields no emphasis to a lot of people. I don't care.)

The best thing about this text-addicted classmate is that she is doubtlessly the worst at hiding it. In the world. She moves her whole body to cocoon her obvious black iPhone 3g(s), and she stares/types for way, WAY longer then you should for secrecy, or really for any messaging other than transcribing The Great Gatsby or something. Which she totally wouldn't. Clifford the Big Red Dog, maybe.

At this point in my initial writing I mentioned something about how if you find a lecture particularly dull, and if texting isn't allowed and you don't like to write, you should just politely get absorbed in your own thoughts. A few hours of reflection on this idea, however, and I remembered that I've heard this girl speak (several times, really loudly, in class), and as such I bet getting lost in her thoughts is like a limbo or purgatorial state. I imagine it would be like walking in a straight line forever across a white sheet of paper populated with her crude drawings of dogs or something.

Cuss, she's doing it again. Incredible. If she were a spy, she'd be the one with the huge black trenchcoat and sunglasses, sitting on a bench, holding an upside-down copy of Highlights for Kids and looking right at you.