What My Afternoon Was Like

I scribbled this little blurb during class today. Your assumption is correct; I stopped paying attention. After having the class once in the morning for two hours, and then three more hours of other classes before this second session of my morning class, my brain was no longer hearing what the teacher was saying. So I decided to look around me instead. There were some angry faces, some bored faces, and some faces with their eyes closed, squashed to the desk.
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They sit. Each in a different state of attention and awareness. Some doodle on the desks making the chronic wobble more pronounced. Others highlight in their workbooks while the teacher grates his chalk on the board. Feet and pencils stretch and tap while the fans above attempt to free themselves from the ceiling. The murmured conversations of boredom or confusion skip around the room once again. And I dig a pencil into my leg to keep myself from nodding off. Phones mean either Facebook or a dictionary, but I've already looked up every word on the page. So I reach for my water bottle beside me to pass another three seconds of the class. A bug falls to my desk and I flick it across the room. I force myself to stare at the wall as Spanish verbs stare back at me. I heave a shallow sigh. One more hour to go.