I'm sitting here crying right now. Sarah Fay Franco does NOT cry. Yet I am. Why, you ask? Because I am living with the most inconsiderate roommate in the history of the world in the most hellish dorm on campus. My wonderful roommate came home at 2:45 A.M. last night. She proceeded to turn on her lamp and do some homework. I guess she also came to the conclusion that 3:00 in the morning would be a good time for her to go get her pots from the kitchen, so she left and came back in with them clanking. Thanks to her, I didn't fall asleep until well after 4. I called my mom, begging her to call the housing office as soon as possible to ask for a transfer, either to another room in Murphree or, ideally, ANY OTHER HALL. After her tirade that I told her to make sure she went on, "Scott" told my mother I have to go see "Linda" in the Murhpree office about a transfer. I go to do this after my first class. After standing there for a while, the bitch behind the desk decides to exert some effort and LOOK UP. She probably wasn't helping me because, ya know, I'm white. I tell her I was told to speak with someone named Linda about a transfer. I dont know if this woman was Linda or not, but all she does is hand me a piece of paper and tell me I'll be put on the waiting list. This is when I broke down and started crying. If theres a waiting list, theres no way I'm getting out. This is such bullshit, because every day I have to walk past room 422, a double with no one living it. It kills me. It absolutely kills me. Every time I would say something about my roommate, I would feel bad and be like "well, maybe I'm being overdramatic." But, no, it has reached a point beyond ridiculous and I CAN NOT take it anymore. I'm thisclose to just breaking down

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