Meet a very stressed, extremely harassed Chana.
Tomorrow's move-in day to Stern, and I hear conflicting information from everybody. Some people tell me to be there at 6:00 in the morning; the book says 8:30 AM. I don't know.
New York, moving large boxes up many flights of stairs, clamoring for the elevator, trying to unpack far too many things in the narrow confines of something that resembles my closet...yes, these are the joys I look forward to tomorrow.
Let's hope it all turns out to be delightful...and that my roommates don't meet a sweaty, dirty me with my hair sticking up in several directions as I bellow across the room, "NO, THAT DOESN'T GO THERE!"
Because that would be slightly frightening for them, and a rather unhappy introduction for me.
Then again...there's no way to make this entirely un-awkward, due to my school's quaintly archaic idea of introducing us to the people we are going to spend an entire year with when school starts as opposed to anytime before. My friends have already corresponded with their people, email, Facebook, the works...I'll be doing it the old-fashioned way. Which is okay, I suppose. As long as she doesn't hate me and I don't hate her. Because that would be bad.
I should go to sleep now, but it's far more interesting to worry about all the things that can possibly go wrong tomorrow.
I need a puzzled Calvin and Hobbes comic now. I shall go off in search of one.