#notamilitarybrat

I am a potato. I've fooled all of you into thinking I'm not.

Aidric had lied. He didn't have a three o' clock appointment. But he knew that if one of his students was struggling with their future, they'd likely take up all three hours of his time. Because apparently, his students were under the impression that he wasn't a college professor. He was a psychiatrist. (That's why his name is Doctor Aidric Hart, after all, right?) Instead, he was grading as much of his papers as he could, chugging down mug after mug of coffee. He actually had another pot brewing on the corner of the desk as he worked, because that morning's round had gotten cold. Summer courses required very little sleep and a great deal of hard work. It was fast-paced, and most of the students were underprepared. He had gotten halfway through grading the tests when his alarm buzzed, reminding him that it was four. Sighing and rubbing at his eyes with one hand, he shut off the alarm with the other.