He was glad when she didn't push the subject of looking at his report another time. Michael was starting to feel a little self-conscious about showing his potentially grandiose stupidity. Sure, it seemed Florence didn't get his professor's instructions much better than he had, but what if she got Michael's interpretation of it even less?<br/><br/>He watched her dumping out the highlighters in shades that would make the 80s proud (well okay, they were missing hot pink) and raised a brow in amusement of her comments on them. "You haven't met my Mom. She hasn't been in a professional workplace for almost as long as I've known her yet is the biggest highlighter user I know. Actually, she could be a professional at that," he smiled lightly at his joke. "I guess they're used to shortcut attention and organize things on the page. Kind of like bookmarking a chunk of information on a page instead of the whole thing..." he was looking over the highlighters while absently continuing, "...letting you see at a glance where the temperature and time information is..."<br/><br/>Michael looked up in realization. "Sorry. My Mom would always highlight the cooking instructions when she left us dinner. This was after she returned to working outside the home--" He suddenly realized something else. "Is it Wednesday?!" At Florence's confirmation, Michael checked his watch; a cool black piece, digital, with a silver stripe running through the middle of the band which ended in an ellipsis shape at the base. His expression creased as if to say 'I've been here that long?'.<br/><br/>"I forgot it's my Mom's day off today. It used to be Tuesdays, so- She always calls me," he was looking in his bag for something, "she'll be wondering where.." he added nearly under his breath.<br/><br/>Soon Michael frowned. "Man. Left my cell in my dorm." He considered for a moment. Even if he kept his conversation with Mom inconsiderately short, and made to return to the library while talking -which would cause distraction at least for him if not for her, depending on hall crowds and noise; never a good thing when talking to your Mom- the studying hour would be spilling into dinner. As meal skipping didn't tend to agree with Michael, he was done at the library for now.<br/><br/>"Do you have an evening class?" Michael asked, returning his attention to Florence while packing his bag back up.