Empty Classrooms and Empty Souls

So I'm writing this in an empty classroom all by my lonesome presumably studying for a psychology final. Being at a college where finals are imminent is similar to being in a war-zone: mostly mind-boggling boredom punctuated by brief moments of bowel shaking "excitement".

There is only so long I can look at words in a book before I am gripped by the urge to see how many consecutive desks I can clear in one jump (even if the last attempt left me with colorful bruises).

The bastards in the room next door started an eraser fight in which I was dragged into. The flurry of dusty barrages was ceased on account of poignancy, when me and some kid I don't know threw erasers at each other from across the room. Both erasers hit each other in mid-air and released a plume of dust which slowly settled in the center of the battle field. It was like that floating plastic bag scene in American Beauty.

I figured out how to hook up cable tv to the projector in a lecture hall. There goes an hour.

Tiled floors and socks. Need I elaborate?

At one point I got locked out of my classroom and needed campus safety to unlock it. As we passed another room with only a male and female inhabitant inside, the campus safety guy asked me "Were they makin' out or something?" I responded with my best straight face "Looks like they were studying. On the floor." He snorted "Studyin' my ass. He was studyin' her eyes."