Harold...you dirty cheater

Usually Harold and I have a great relationship. He always patiently waits for me, no matter how late I am, and never asks questions. Except on finals week. Instead of finding a warm welcome and plenty of studying space, I find only people. PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. Harold asks, "Well Whitney, why didn't you get here earlier?" GET OFF MY BACK HAROLD. So when I go to the library - because that's what good good students who want A's on their ochem final do - instead of occupying my table all to myself right underneath the Asian Studies sign on the fourth floor, I am crammed in the last available cubicle(which goes against everything I believe) on the 2nd floor(where I generally refuse to study) in between Changing Sexual Roles in the Family and Breastfeeding and Human Lactation. I diagrammed my feelings below:



"Oh gee, really full."
"More full..."

"Soooooo. many. people."

"Why are there people sitting underneath the drinking fountain?!"

"Even the bathroom couches are full??!!!"

DISGRUNTLEMENT