I currently sit in the Office of Student Affairs with a runny nose and an empty ziplock baggie because I got bored--not hungry--and ate the PP&J that I packed for lunch. I don'tbelong in this office. I am here because my boss, who apparently "trusts" me, volunteered me as a temporary helper/employee/aid/whatever for student affairs in an effort to help alleviate some strain on the understaffed office. Okay, so I understand how shitty it is to work in an understaffed office (ie, the presidents office) and how unjustly blissful it is to work in an overstaffed office (ie, orientation office), so I suppose I should feel good about being part of the operation to steal from the rich to feed the poor. But the truth is that I'm totally enraged. After a decent Tuesday night gathering at Erin's I woke up at 6:45 so I could get ready in time to ride my bike to ccampus, which is also a result of something annoying. Yesterday I lost my bus pass and ID in the most peculiar way. I walked out of my house and placed the card in my planner, storing it safely so I may retrieve it after a quick good luck call to my criminal friend Gaby (on her way to court) and a re-application of cherry Chapstick. I walked to the bus stop, jotted down a few notes in my planner, and as the bus approached I opened the page where I had supposedly left my pass and IT WAS GONE! No where! I returned to the site later that day and combed the place on hands and knees (no joke) and the ID is no where to be found. Well, I guess its back to the BuffOne office for my fourth new BuffCard--this has to be a record. But the point is that since I lost my pass I had to get up early enough to ride my bike to work (or pseudo work) by 7:30 am. This was rough. I can't complain I guess. I am here to answer calls and have gotten exactly 2 to date, and there is a gigantic jar of hershey's kisses sitting in front of me. But I am essentially cotantined in a cubical area, with no fellow Orientation Leader peers to converse with about really important things--like the NBA finals or why Jim has to speak half english, half um's when he assigns the most mundane of tasks. Actually, I just miss Gaby telling really dumb stories with so much enthuiasm and passion that you are deceived into thinking it was really as traumatic as she makes it sound. Tangent done.