Muffin wizards

An overcrowded classroom is filled with weary students, black bags under their eyes. They have more than likely just rolled out of bed to make it to this early class, likely not showering to make it. (Which would explain that weird smell in the air.)

           

The wonderful teacher at the front of the class, so perky and alert, is ready to teach.

            

But, the students are half-asleep—me most of all. I watch my drool drip down onto the table. To run this bakery, my team and I work hard. I am a part of the Marketing Team, which means that I update our Facebook page and take picures of our delectable food. I’m in advertisement.  My team and I have to hang flyers in all the dorms and scour the campus for places where the students might see them. My teammate is constantly updating Twitter—telling the campus where we are, when and what we are selling.

           

The two other teams and mine fight for spacing in this over-crowded classroom, vigorously working to make this a success. Ideas being thrown from the left, from the right, trying to discuss the overall plan. I’m thinking too hard; between the writing assignments and articles I have to read, planning can be overwhelming. I might pass out with so little food in my stomach. Tired and hungry, I stare at the dining hall. I catch John staring at the dining hall out of the corner of my eye. It seems to be conveniently located right across the way, just for us to see.

           

Before that though, we must wait for the class to be over. And, even before that, we must get our job done. I want to make the whole campus aware of the Terrier Bakery.