I think I’m going to make it through the semester. I’m not so sure if my mother is.
Don’t get me wrong,she’s in good spirits and in good health; however, she may murder one or all of her students if they don’t start proofreading their papers. At this moment, I am in my room cowering with a cup of coffee. I want to go into the living room, but to do that, I would have to pass her office. Judging from her growls of exasperation, she’s getting impatient with the freshman comp essays. I resorted to making myself a cup of instant coffee with hot water from the bathroom, swirled in a cup. I keep instant coffee in my backpack, because you never know when you’ll need it. When I packed , I imagined that I would need it during an extra long study session at the library when I wouldn’t have a chance to dash out, or perhaps when Helena’s terrible driving landed us in the land that time forgot. I never suspected that it would be trapped in my own room by students who apparently have not learned how to use the spell and grammar check function on their computer.
Ann: a story of the small 
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