People, respect your teachers. It’s an incredibly difficult job.


Well, the class went very badly, very badly indeed. I sent them all out after about fifteen minutes because there wasn’t anything left to say, not that I was going to get any of them to talk, anyways. Save, of course, the three guys in the left hand corner. Nick, Gene, and Adam (I think,) If you’re reading this, thank you so very much for at least pretending to be interested.


I sent them out, then sat down and cried, and drew myself a tree on the whiteboard to make myself feel better.


I’m really not looking forward to Thursday’s class. How can people do this for a living? Mom, now I know how you feel.


On a lighter note, I came back into the dorm and sat venting to Tiffany for a while in the TV room, when for some reason she wanted to see if Jess was in the room. I hadn’t been to my room yet, and I didn’t think anything of it.


I thought the pranks were over, but wildcane, you were right. Retaliation was provoked.


My room was (and still is) backwards.


The first thing that occured to me was, “Why did Jess put all of my pillows on her bed?”


All of my bed stuff is on her bed, and vice versa. Wall-decorations from her side are on my side, and vice versa. All of her clothes are in my closet…and–you guessed it–vice versa. There’s a new note on my door:


We wanted to tell you guys that we love you so much!


I can’t wait till Jess gets home. I hope I’m here when she arrives. 🙂

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