LUMS spoils you.

The earliest I have ever imagined myself getting up in the morning since I've been here is at 8.00 am for the 8.30 class. Even then, more often than not, I'll walk into that particular class about 5 minutes late. Not that that matters normally because most instructors show up 5 minutes late themselves for the first class of the day. Even then, it's somewhat disconcerting and embarrassing when you're sitting in class, listening to a balding, middle-aged man drone on about politics, development or religion, you're sitting next to a female friend you'd bumped into right outside class, and you're barely lost your morning wood.

The sleepy slouch in the majorly comfy seats joins forces with the cold from the over-efficient air-conditioning to leave you feeling sedated and satiated. Your mind starts to wander and you're sitting thinking about the erotic dream from last night. All the while, the dissipating morning wood is finding more and more reasons to resuscitate itself. At this juncture, you're being lectured on something mundanely boring by an ugly, pot-bellied man and you're sitting there with a hard-on which refuses to go away despite your best efforts. What makes it all worse is that you can't even adjust the damn thing to be more comfortable because there's a female sitting next to you already aware of your severe fidgeting and discomfort. Do you sacrifice all dignity and shame for one quick crotch-grab and instant relief from the awkwardly growing situation? Or do you continue to pretend nothing's wrong while bearing with the almost painful discomfort in order to maintain social decorum?

Round about the time you choose to ditch all etiquette for a quick readjustment of the equipment, you realize that the 4 hours of sleep you've had isn't close to being enough to prevent incessant yawning fits. As you slouch further down into your seat, your eyes watery and blood-shot, baldy gives you a sympathetic look. He gets you. Been there, done that.

The last piece of torture, the pièce de résistance, is the end of class. You suddenly realize that you have to get up and walk out of class with your female companion and you still haven’t lost the boner. Bend over slightly as you get up. Deftly place bag or notebook in front of crotch. Quick readjustment of jeans to hide the growth as best you can. Walk out slouched. Ten mortified steps later, life is good again.

I love morning classes.