Some people did miss school, but that didn't make it any easier to come back to. The last time Bobbi had been to class it was to present her thesis to a combined audience of five people who already knew the details anyway. This, actually getting up and going to a classroom with full seats and new ideas that weren't her own, was more work than she remembered; or maybe being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had just spoiled and aged her. At least now she was on the other end of the spectrum-- Bobbi Morse had graduated from student to master. Or, well, teaching assistant. And Bobbi Morse wasn't anybody anymore, Billie Robins was. This was a reincarnation that she got to experience, and while she wasn't regretting it, she could really use a long weekend or a tall drink.
All she had with her was strong coffee from the caf, and that would have to do. No food allowed in the library, so Bobbi was shuffled out into the open air where she squinted and took a careful seat on a bench, both hands around her paper cup and pile of folders spilling out of her bag in her lap. There was more homework as a teacher than there was as a student, she never realized that before. It made sense, though. They all had to do it once, she had to do it as many times as there were students in a class. If this job was going to be like this every week, it wasn't leaving her much time to get back to her real life. The actual life that was her own, not Billie's, not even Bobbi's. Mockingbird was severely lacking some 'me' time.