I am broken.

First, I had an intense swing dance class full of lifts and swings. I was sliding all around the floor and then twisting into odd-shaped pretzels. It left me tired.

After that, I sat around the student center hoping against hope that residential college presidents would come pick up their fliers. One did. In fact, that dorm sent two people to pick them up. But that was the only one. No one came to help me post fliers around campus, though, so I spent an hour and a half walking four feet, crouching, placing, taping, standing and walking again.

At this point I can no longer feel my middle and lower back.

My room smells really bad, too. I swear it smells like burnt plastic, but I can't find the source of the odor. Scott says it smells like sour milk. However, I smelled the washed-out milk bottle and it didn't smell funny to me. I left my window open all afternoon to air it out, but it didn't help. It's as if something has died in here.

I pre-registered for two classes today, the first time I've ever pre-registered for more than one and the first time I've pre-registered for one I wasn't already scheduled to take (like most journalism courses). Unfortunately, I couldn't sign up for the Asian and Middle East Studies classes I want to take. That's what comes from having an interdisciplinary major. The mailing list gave me the hope that I would be able to sign up for anything on the list, but I think it really meant to say "only the courses in the history department that meet the requirements." (And no, you smart alecks, the reason I couldn't registered for the sociology or English courses was not because I'd already signed up for two. I wasn't intending to pre-register for my second journalism course.)