3 Cheers for Hot Professors

There is no sugar coated fluffy way to share with you how much I despise math. Usually you can find me doodling hearts, my monogram, stupid sunflower-y shit, and everything in-between to avoid the formula writings. When none of those are happening, I zone out and proceed to scroll up and down to see whats popping (or not popping) in the wonderful world of twitter.

I started summer classes with a big yawn. No really, it was sort of difficult to keep my eyes open given that days circumstances. However, I was early to class- just by a few minutes. As I walked towards the room I peered through the glass. I saw a projecter screen on (*groans and grunts*) and my professor and I made eye contact. Pretty sure my pupils got the opposite of shrunk because he was a hunk. Rachel, 1.

I decided to walk into the class room, sit near the desk, and proceed to sit second closest to the front. Was I on drugs? Was I exhausted? Was I in love? #dramatic. I'd say about one and a half of those reasons are right. As I admired his hairy arms handing me a vile packet of all things 'I should probably know about math', some lady liked it so she put a ring on it. Clearly, I would too.

You see, my professor has the charm, humor, and looks like Chris Messina, my lover from The Mindy Project, meets a hot guy I once hooked up with. So you most likely understand my excitement.

Like I've mentioned before via twitter AND life, is that math was created by the witches. I heard it was actually used for some spell shit in the salem witch trials shenans...Ok really, the devil created it WHO ARE WE KIDDING. Luckily, there are benefits to having your WORST course taught by my favorite type of male species, DILFS. 

1. They make it more exciting. You laugh at their stupid jokes and stories, you occasionally doze off thinking about their wickedly good facial hair, and you think about spending the rest of your life together. I'm not a crazy - promise. However, it definitely gives me SOMETHING to look forward to being that this is pure torture - a two hour summer class that is about a half hour drive each way.

2. It's okay, let them drop something. The good ole bend and snap minus the snap because he's not a dramatic white girl. But hey, no complaints from this opposite-of-cougar-chaser.

3. Understanding math? Me? Never. Maybe I just really connected with him (HES JEWISH, so of course Rachel does) but so far so good - he made math easy to understand. Not like my last professor WHO I HAD BEFORE IN HIGH SCHOOL who definitely tried to make students life hell and fail them/give poor grades.

Walking into class I had no clue if my professor was either a person that pees in the "dress" or "plain stick figure" place. Good thing he's everything I want my future husband to look like. Word of the wise, take shitty classes with hot professors and all your worries will slowly disappear.

P.s I'm not actually THAT creepy, just exaggerating. That's what us bloggers do best, right?