I need space. I need somewhere I can go, shut the door, and not have to worry about someone coming in to take a nap or wash dishes or practice a dubstep routine. Instead, I'm sitting at the table in the end lounge, with people loudly walking by every five minutes and talking over my BBC Radio 4 extra streaming.
Why did I volunteer to work tonight? That makes every night from Weds to Sunday working, four hours each. Right, I wanted the money. Stupid fiscal motivations. It would be a bit better if I had a chance to get to Barnes and Noble to buy the latest Doctor Who magazine, but I don't have a car and I'm not even sure they have it at all. Anyway, I'm tired and fed up with being stashed in a dorm like sardines.