Frustration

University Grounds, Maroon Dormitories, MD149, Personal Computer
Date: X/XX/XX
Subject: I am Irked
Password Protected: Yes

Maroons are obliged to rate their instructors from best to least at the end of every term. Most of my class regret giving such high marks to our hardware anatomy instructor, as adorable as this young blood may be... only a few years older than ourselves. As to why, the time in the past few weeks I have spent or rather poured on H.A. may shakily be brought to waste as the removal exam for the dishonorable half-wits of our H.A. class is tomorrow afternoon.

Had the exam been scheduled for next week and had our grades been prepared by this morning, I would not be so irked but NO. Stonewall had to just delay our marks! And now I have to rehash the entire laboratory manual. That won't be very difficult, but considering I have a fifty-point three-paragraph essay to take care of and another exam, AND the Turk FINAL field exam, I may as well throw myself against the wall.

The Whites in Stonewall's class were very persistent, and I even pity those who stayed until late in the day on campus. Several of us went to the point of acquiring the instructor's contact details, but to no avail. He simply refuses to answer.

And here I am, quivering over uncertainty as to whether or not I'll be taking the load tomorrow. As though I don't have enough field assignments with the Ottoman Turks to deal with. The shuriken in my pocket are quivering as well; they want to create scars in the cubicle wall.

I've been in touch with all the H.A. students and the N-Unit Turks all afternoon and as much as I enjoy being of help, I remain irked for not being as well-informed as I should. Zeimlich advised me to keep calm and to stop whining; a letter from home said the same thing. What's the world gone to these days?