Back to school, back to school, to prove to dad I'm not a fool

It's 8:36am, and I am back on campus for my first day of classes. I am happy about this. I have been waking up with no obligations beyond my medical requirements for the last four months. It feels surprisingly good to have goals again. Of course, I still have to fulfill said medical obligations, but now I have school to distract me instead of nothing.

My first class isn't even until ten, I just carpooled in with my roommate using my newly acquired gibble pass. Sorry, my handicapped parking permit. Two more months of crutches, so I deserve the fucker. Gibble. Gibble gibble gibble. Gibble.

I am in the library, and I was the first one here by a long shot. It's freaking quiet. I 'm excited for class, but a little bit scared about today's lecturers. One of them is very ESL, and one of them has his own equation in the textbook and is slightly soul-destroying. Also, combover.

An aside:
As I was standing in the kitchen this morning, (well, more tripodding, what with the aluminum legs and all) my roommate walked in holding a cereal bowl, and he looked so unhappy. Granola clusters + balkan yogurt = sad face, apparently.

More to follow. Hell, probably more to follow today. I'm overstimulated.