At synapses, the homologous chromosomes may exchange genetic information. Pairs of homologous chromosomes line up along the equatorial plate of the cell. Homologous chromosomes separate and move to opposite poles of the cell. Cyctokenisis meoiotic divisngions prophzeae meatjlakdfkanvjdlaghsjdfadakljflkhfa.ntjgsm vm,kalfdho...
What the hell?! Are those even words? What was I writing? My page is a chaotic mess of pointless scribbles and useless doodles. I drew a tornado, a few happy faces, and a cube. Perfect, this will help me pass the test. What was I thinking...
So there I was, sitting in biology, ready to face the day. It was 8:10, and at this point my brain was still in a comatose state that no amount of shitty coffee could shake. Not that Mrs. Bell allowed coffee in her class anyways. To make matters worse, I have the worst seat in the room. Dead centre in the middle column of the middle row, surrounded completely by the most wonderful acquaintances. This class couldn't get by sooner. I have drama next.
Mrs. Bell cheerfully bursts into the room and chimes out a question about how great we're all doing this morning. "Amazing Mrs. Bell! Happy to be here!!" Says no one, ever. She strolls on up to her black Acer laptop projected onto the smartboard and boots up our lesson for the day. Her desktop wallpaper today is a creepy neon green bug, glaring back at everyone with it's beating eyes. So it's gonna be one of those days.
Human Karyotypes in Cellular Meiosis
Perfect. My slim, plastic ballpoint pen slides across the page. It smoothly skims along with each letter, rising and falling as I race to scratch down the information. I can already smell the ink seeping into the page. The next slide pops up, and it's a big one. The class lets out a heavy groan as Mrs. Bell leads us through a slide filled to the brim with plain black text. Come on, at least throw a little colour in there.
At this point I can't even hear what she's saying. She's going on about the effects of blah blah onto the blah blah, but my mind has one goal. Write. This. Note. Just get the information down as fast as you can and be done with it. Faster and faster my hand jitters across the page, scribing out these thoughts like Shakespeare with ink and parchment. Faster. I am the hare, I will win this race. I am an artist, and this page is my canvas. So help me god, I will get this note written down before anyone else in this room! Part of me is still processing Bell's insistent chattering, but my task is clear. I'm so close. Just one more sentence to go... I'm almost free... DONE!
In an act of true triumph and glory, I unclick my pen and hurl it back onto my desk. I am flooded with feelings of success and power, as if I just climbed Mount Everest with nothing but a ball point pen to guide me. This must be how the CEOs of Google feel all the time. I am commander and king, destroyer and creator! This note is finally finished.
To be honest, this happens everyday. Why do we have to go through this? Just make a photocopy of the information, it's not that hard. I refuse to believe that students learn more by taking notes, I know I don't.
Note taking? Pretty stupid.