I don’t know about the rest of you

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.