First of all, finals are coming. Yesterday I made the "Finals Countdown" for me and the roommates. I made little countdown chains for how many finals we have! I'm just so dern crafty...psych.
Second of all, finals are coming. Yes, I just repeated myself. But I've got something to say about that. Look folks, a lot of you who have just recently invaded my first floor study area of the library are getting to me. You never studied the entire semester and now you think you can just waltz in here and use the computers all the time...and the good computers, too. (You know, the ones with the extra large screens so you can have two documents up at the same time...nice.) You get all grumpy when no computers are available. You can't believe some people go to the bathroom, and yes, they're going to want their computer back when they're done doing their business.
Well look here, bucko. I don't like your pants, but I'm not huffing and puffing about it. So build a bridge and get over it.
Yes, I just said that. And yes, I also said that when I was in third grade.
Third of all, finals are coming. (Deja vu` much?) The Testing Center. I probably go to the testing center every day. I make all the tests (and by make I mean I put a sticker on them and run them through a copier...terribly overwhelming as I'm sure you guessed) and then I take them to the testing center. But for the record, I ain't no dummy. Sometimes I save up all the tests so I only make one trip. For example, today. I printed up five different finals and prepared them to be taken to the testing center. Because they are finals, I have to number them as well. Now, you probably think that numbering finals with one of those cool stamping/numbering machines would be fun, but I'm here to tell you that it gets old...fast.
Then I piled them into the boxes and put them on my cart...yes, my cart. I use it so much that it's often referred to as "Stacy's cart". I can't say I particularly enjoy the title, but whate'er. You do what you gotta do.
Then came the best part...and by best, I mean worst. ("And by Peter Pan, I mean Jack and the Beanstalk") Walking to the testing center. In my younger years, I was much less intelligent. When I had to take multiple tests to the TC, I would just stack them on the cart instead of putting them in the boxes. Hello, dummy. For the record, paper moves. And slides. And has an inborn desire to not stay on the cart.
Enter paper boxes. Stack the tests in the boxes, put all the boxes on the cart and proceed. It's brilliant, really.
Okay, so anyway. I walk over to the testing center. Sometimes when I have such a heavy cart, I feel like I could be on a bobsled team (preferably the Jamaican one) as one of those pusher ladies. I'd be pretty excellent, let's not kid ourselves. I finally make it to the Testing Center--over every bump, through every crowd of people (who for some reason never seem to see me...I mean, if you were wearing those thick blind people glasses, the ones that say "yo", I might let it slide. But I mean, really? I had some real momentum going until you and your girl pack decided to cross over my path...)
I keep getting distracted. I finally get to the testing center and make it up the elevator and walk in to my favorite little testing center office to see the only testing center person I care to interact with, Kylie. She's nice to me always. And as strange as it might seem, she doesn't treat me like I'm dumb. Weird, right? Sometimes when I talk to any of the full-time people, I just want to be like, "Really? Really? I come here every single day. I have been for the past 8 months. I realize that's not even a fraction of how long you've been here, but still. You know me. I know you do. So stop asking me the same questions and blaming me for things that are really the responsibility of the professor...'You need to schedule your tests farther in advance', 'Make the tests double sided even though the professor specifically told you not to', or my personal favorite: 'I can't let you pick up a test without seeing your ID so I can make sure you actually work for the Chemistry Dept.' You did not just say that to me. Like I said, you see me every. single. day. You know me. You know my first name, my last name, the name of my elementary school, my favorite color, the day my dog died, my birthday, my favorite day of the week, my favorite type of cereal, and probably my social security number. We are not going through this again. I'm serious. I am walking out of the office with these tests whether you like it or not. Stay there. Behind your desk. Do not come over here. These tests are now mine. So get that confused, 'You seriously didn't bring your ID card' face off right now because we are done playing games. No, but really."
So, like I said, I just like Kylie. Kylie told me I had to go out and check my tests in with some TC noob. The noob told me to take all the tests and put them on the table and then check them in with her. So I did. I pulled over 1000 tests made up of over 5000 pages out of their boxes and put them onto the table. I told her the names of the professors and what class they were for. She checked them off and as I was about to go, she was like, "You need to take them to Kylie now." I was like, "Wait, what?" She told me she just had to see them, but don't worry, you don't have to put them back in the boxes. You can just carry them over. Oh yes, I can just carry them over. Because while I know I look like a body builder, I'm not one. Why did you make me take them out of the boxes? Couldn't you have just told me to take one out and show it to you? Girl, you trippin'.
So I carried them over to Kylie and got such the paper cut in the process. Seriously, though. It would not stop bleeding. Noobs. I know we've all been there, but still. Someone has a bloody test now, and I'm holding her responsible.
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