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"Problem fifteen "b"; the function of the cost times the rate, as a decimal..." the professor's voice trailed off in my mind. For the past forty-five minutes, I had been starring at my watch, silently praying for some catastrophe to liberate me from my current setting. Math never was my favorite subject, even as early as elementary school, I showed an unmistakable dislike for it. Swiveling in my chair, I remembered how Mrs. Fox, in third grade, had made each student stand in front of the class to recite multiplication tables. Once again, I heard her soft voice gently correcting each of my mistakes as I stood, mortified, in front of my classmates. The sound of chalk screeched against the board, causing me to turn my attention back to the monotonous voice of my Algebra professor, explaining the function of variable "c". As he continued to write feverishly on the black board, in small, half-legible numbers and letters, I tapped my foot impatiently on the pink carpet of the st!adium-seated floor. Glancing at my watch again, I turned to study the clock hanging on the wall at the right of the room; squinting and leaning forward to compensate for the absence of my glasses, which I had forgotten on the jewel
------------------------------------------------------------------------ Mrs. McGill's U.S history class, and Mrs. Swinford's creative writing lab. Looking up at the professor again, I studied his appearance. His pants, which barely reached his ankles, were obviously too short, despite his small size, so he kept them belted unusually low around his hips. He reminded me of a plump version of Mr. Willy Wonka, from the popular children's movie. I chuckled, half mockingly and half sympathetic, as I imagined him in a purple velvet top hat, singing "Imagination" with an oversized lollypop. ry box next to my bed. I glanced once more at my wristwatch, and frowned. Both clocks stated clearly that it was 4:32 p.m. The convocation had already begun, but the professor would not stop his lesson. A slight change in the tone of his voice caused me to sit up, in anticipation of some hint that it was time to leave. But his only intentions were to finish explaining something that had confused me from the beginning of class and, from the look of things, would not become any clearer in the immediate future. Resting my chin in the palm of my hand, and my elbow on the table, I flipped through the pages of my new paperback "Understanding Algebra" handbook. I struggled to concentrate on symbols that I vaguely remembered studying somewhere between ! rain cells seemed to fog up, worse than the windows of my '96 Toyot
Some common words found in the essay are:
, Willy Wonka, Toyota Tercell, Algebra Walking, Understanding Algebra,
Approximate Word count = 955
Approximate Pages = 4 (250 words per page double spaced)
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