“There’s two courses on here.” “Oh! Right.” I bend, snag my bag from the ground and pull out the third, slapping it on top of the other. She blinks. “Three classes.” “Three classes.” Double-checking something on her screen, she says, “I have you down for one. I don’t think I have space for such a heavy workload.” “That makes no sense, Tutor Girl. We’re here, let’s get the shit done.” She shakes her head. “I have to work in two-hour increments, each credit is two hours of study time. Each class is four credits, on average, which is eight hours and that translates to—” “Four sessions a week. I
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