I didn't read Waiting for Godot and this happened

I didn't read Waiting for Godot so this writing assignment is essentially useless right now until I can go home, read it, and form a somewhat educated response to the prompt. Chris told me Waiting for Godot was a good play and that I should read it, but he was visiting during the day I supposed to read it so I didn't end up reading it. I might read it when I go home. Actually, I probably will read it when I get home because I should probably have something useful to say when I turn this in. I will probably delete all of this when I get out of class. I'm only typing this out so it looks like I'm doing something productive. It would be really funny if Mr. Conley asks to see what I've done so far. I can't decide if I think he would get really irritated that I'm not actually doing the assignment or if he'd just get a big kick out of the fact that I'm writing this nonsense out.

Blahhhhh, fifteen minutes left in class. Just kidding. Fourteen. The professor is talking to a student about dropping classes after the drop date. Some of the other students are meeting in their extra credit workshop groups instead of doing the writing assignment. Thirteen minutes now. I'm so darn hungry. I didn't feel like eating breakfast this morning. I had to do a presentation in my theater class about Eugene O'Neill and as soon as I got up to the front of the classroom, my stomach made this horrendous growling sound and my stomach has been roiling with intense hunger pains all morning. I think my presentation went okay. My mouth went dry, like it always does, and when I couldn't remember what to say I resorted to making lame jokes that nobody laughed at. I also remember my leg spazzing out at some point because I got really nervous for whatever reason, and I'm almost one hundred percent positive that it looked odd. Oh wells.

Nine minutes. Geezaloo, I'm hungry.

Wowie. A whole double-spaced page about absolutely nothing important. I'm kind of impressed with myself – but not really because it's an entire page about nothing.

(This is the part where you think I'm going to wax all philosophical about how even though I wrote something about nothing, it is something because there are words. But I'm not going to.)

I can't decide what I want to eat for lunch. I wish there was an IHOP on campus. I could really go for pancakes right now.

This has been interesting. Maybe I should free write like this in all my classes. I might could come up with something brilliant.