Attention Deficit Disorder

I am sending murder vibes to everyone who is yackety yacking in the library right now. I'm in my favorite place to study, but I can't focus because it sounds like feeding time on monkey island. Once upon a time, the middle section of the main floor of the HBLL was a quiet, calm, lovely place to fill my brain with knowledge. NOW... it is covered with these signs:



And filled with chatty Cathys.

HATE HATE DOUBLE HATE. LOOOOOOOOATHE ENTIRELY.

I wish that sign said.... "No BULL SHHHH! Zone"

This is not doing anything to boost my mood, which could use some substantial boosting considering the earlier events of today. Let us start from the very begining.

I was 10 minutes late to my favorite class this morning, and really, really sweaty after walking up the stairs and ramp south of campus. I had to scoot my sweaty self into one of the only open seats in the front row. The girl next to me had total poo breath and I wanted to pass away every time she moved. I really hope it was her breath...

After class I started to make my way from campus up to the Morris center for work, which is about a 10 minute walk. Its usually not too bad, but the skirt I was wearing insisted on scrunching and sliding northward whilst swirling around so that the zipper was all skiwampus and not in the center where it was supposed to be. I literally had to hold it in place all the way to the office. I probably looked like I was trying not to poo my pants. I was relieved to be able to sit down at work and relax.


Until. UNTILLLLLL.....


I felt like I wanted some chocolate milk. I love chocolate milk. It is delectable. We have it in our vending machine in the break room, and I was really excited to drink it. I bought some and as I made my way back to my desk I proceeded to shake it up. I hadn't even opened it yet, and out of nowhere the cap flew off and I sloshed chocolatey goodness all up all over myself as I sat down. It was in my hair. All over my desk. All over my face. All over my neck and down my shirt. All over my arms. All over the outside of my shirt. All over my work phone. All over my backpack. All over the cubicle. In my eyes. I looked like a chocolate swamp thing.

Trying not to draw any attention to myself, I got up and walked briskly to the bathroom, got some paper towels, dried my face off, and hurried back to my desk to clean it off before my computer shorted out from being covered with liquid chocolate.

I sopped up as much of the chocolate puddle on my desk as I could before anyone could see, but hours later I still had tell tale brown splotches all over myself. Like unto this one on my shoulder:

I wish the lighting in this picture were better so that you could see how much dried chocolate milk I had down the right side of my face and hair. (Your Left) It really doesn't do justice to my chocolatey dampness at all. Well, I mean, my clothes stayed wet but my hair definitely dried into a crunchy chocolate shell.

I totally just lost my train of thought. Oh yes. So after my milky mishap I sat in wet milky clothes for the rest of my shift. It was awesome. And when I say awesome, I mean that I smelled like a rotten fudgesicle.

I am in no mood for any late night library shenanigans. If the freshies behind me do not shut their yaps in a about 5 seconds, I am going to LOSE MY FREAKING MIND. Like Andy Bernard.

Also, I just found some more chocolate in my hair.