Pit of doom

So I get back to school and oh yes my friend. I'm already in the crappy "Woe is me" place. My liquid laundry detergent broke over the summer in my storage bin and got all over my pictures and my printer. My room has no closet. I left medicine for my skin at home. I can't find my house key. And now, for the second year, I didn't get the classes I want. I have to re-register, which means I have to interview (yes, we interview) for classes again and pick and fucking sigh. And I got the crappiest housing number in the whole school last year.

I heart life.

Oh and I get to eavesdrop on people with conversations like this again:

"I fucking hate work. Who invented it?! It was probably the mormons... I hate the Amish." -- some pretentious fuck I eavesdropped on. Dumb bitch.