Monday Afternoon. 8AM.

It’s not that I find Geography boring as a subject. It’s just — early morning and an obnoxious teacher was never a great combo.

When we step into the heavily decorated classroom, we’re all practically zombies. And to think this is extra credit. We chose to come and get bored for two hours in a row. Oh, we were interested the first few days. Actually tried paying attention. And then, as we started to understand that we would barely ever hear anything from Mr. WhatsHisName but the tall tales of his own exploits, our attention drifted, faster than logs of wood on omiscan rapids.

At first, we focused on the relics in their glass cases, against the further wall of the classroom. We had had the full tour on day one — probably to lure us into thinking this was going to be a subject we wouldn’t want to drop. Old dolls taken from tombs; vases and rare gems, and traditional woven baskets.

That’s all well and good, but from our seats, there was only so much we could see. So we focused on the plastic branch hanging from the ceiling. The various diplomas, awards, and certifications Mr. WhatsHisName had hung around the classroom to flatter his own ego.

I understand him in a way. He still wore clothes for the jungle, but he didn’t look like he had seen an adventure in my whole lifetime.

I guess I would also spend my days talking about greater times for me.

This one day, though, Hugo apparently decides he’s had enough. And suddenly the boring, boring morning class turns into not-so-muffled laughter. Fun, and shared jokes, and anecdotes. Hugo coming to the rescue of my comatose brain, and ensuring my day started great. I mean, it was still a Monday. But far from the worst Monday I’ve known.

I guess that was one time we were glad Mr. WhatsHisName was so self-absorbed.

A small class of very bored volunteers. Hugo, Charlotte, Charlotte’s jock neighbor and I lost first rank lottery that morning.

Watched over by an indifferent sugar skull, My and Hugo’s eyes are closed and our minds far, far from the tall tales of the oblivious middle-aged man in front of us.s

I gotta give Hugo credit for coming up with a joke in a creative wasteland.

And a good one at that.

Hugo: making my days better since primary school.