Sitting in class yesterday, I was distinctly aware of the rough day my professor was having. His fly was open, his hair was all over the place and he could not, for the life of him, get his notes in the same order as the PowerPoint he had prepared in about five minutes the night before (or morning of). Yet, that lecture was probably the best lecture I had sat through all semester. It was the only one in which I found myself taking notes without having to remind myself to, the only one I wanted to stay in past its scheduled end time and definitely the only one that has pushed me to think past the lecture itself enough to write a column about it. I was surprised at myself for enjoying something that was so disheveled.