I like taking notes. It has to be the smell of the ink. I love that stuff. If it could be perfumed, I'd buy that. That and the smell of Coca-Cola. If Coca-Cola came out with a fragrance, I'd buy that in an instant. Someone needs to get on that. Ink probably wouldn't make as nice a perfume smell I guess. Don't get on that.
I guess my notes are pretty much how that last paragraph went: all over the place, diverting from the original intent. I can read them just fine, but no one else would really want to. It's simply how my brain works, but when others ask to look at them, I'm always full of disclaimers for them. I tell them to download the power points or to ask someone else, but then they see this as a challenge and I don't want to look rude because they want to see my notes.
So that's what happened with Charlotte, who missed Com. Law because of a golf tournament. She read through it and gave it back the next class, and when she was absent the next time, because of golf, I offered them up readily.
Only, she shook her head this time and told me that she'd just go talk to the professor anyway.
No thanks, your notes are terrible and look more like the chalk board found in a football team's locker room, is what I heard.
Only, she shook her head this time and told me that she'd just go talk to the professor anyway.
No thanks, your notes are terrible and look more like the chalk board found in a football team's locker room, is what I heard.