Cold Hard BItch

Today was my first day with all my reporters (28 this semester, ye gods and little fishes) and believe it or not, we got done two hours early. Man, we kick ass. Yesterday I was cranky and flustered and worked on newspaper stuff until midnight, but today went smoothly, I hardly have anything to look at tonight, and I may even be able to get to bed without hitches.

So far I don't think they hate me. I love all my editors dearly. They are without a doubt the most diverse group I've ever worked with, but we're all weird, so it works. They're spifferific.

But yeah, yesterday: not so good. Except for the three marriage proposals. That kept me from killing anyone yesterday. It goes like this: either I was having a really awesome Monday, to get asked that many times, or there were three people out there with HORRIBLE days if they had to ask me. *grin*

(And every single one came from Georgia. My goal is to get everyone from Athens to propose to me by the end of the week.)

My (freshman) roommate was supposed to check in today. How badly does it suck that a senior has to room with a first year? This is ridiculous. But the worst thing was she checked in a day early. That's right, yesterday I came home from work and encountered The Dreaded One. My door was unlocked when I walked in, and there was a purse on the floor and a few boxes. It was all on the floor because all MY stuff was on her bed, her desk, her dresser . . . I was going to pick it up, but she wasn't supposed to get there for another 24 hours. I shoved everything on my side of the room and tried to escape before she got back, but while I was searching for my sunglasses (WHY am I so unorganized?) she came back. With her mother.

Not only is she a freshman, but she's 17. She won't turn 18 until around the same time I turn 22, in the spring. And we were talking (I hate talking to new roommates) and she thinks we're exactly alike. For the record, I do not have knick-knacks everywhere, or anything that's glass. Even Noel lives in plastic. Her mother is overbearing and she's neat. My mother lives half a country away and I'm cluttered. Thank God I will always be either at the barn with Topper, in class, or in the newsroom. Poor Noel may have to move to the communication building.

I got away from the roommate and the mother, went to the barn, got dinner, visited my sister, then came back long enough to shower and grab all my work for the evening and stuff it in a bag to take it upstairs to work on (all the guys in the far east corner of Foster: your rooms are now my refuge, so watch out). I told her not to lock the door since I'll still be in the building, and I went on my merry way.

At one a.m. I was done, came back down, and my door was locked. The silly, silly girl had locked the door and gone to bed. I knocked for 5 minutes, made other people come out of their rooms and look at me, she still hadn't woken up, so I had to go wake up Courtney--my RA and the only other awesome girl senior close by--and get her to unlock my door. How humiliating. At least I was in my cool pajama pants with the cartoon zebras with crossword puzzles instead of stripes.

And then she left today (while I was at work) for Frog Camp, which will be 3 days long. Whew. Just enough time for me to enjoy coming home from work and being content with everything for a bit longer. Prolong the magic, just a bit more . . .

Oh yeah, I totally forgot, but I think this is awesome: we told the chancellor that me, the managing, the associate, and the news people want to meet with him briefly before school. He offered to take us out to lunch. When he came there was a profile on him and he said his favorite book was A Separate Peace by John Knowles. I knew someone who had the same favorite book as me had to be cool.

It's the end of the day, I've got no worries and a fish who loves me and the only problem is I said yes to two of the three marriage proposals so far. If anyone can send me information on polygamy for beginners, please do.