One office to rule them all, and in the darkness bind them.

I wish I could change the time of this post to "homeroom".

You, dear reader, get to hear about my first day of school.

For some really odd reason, "homeroom" is actually "second period"; but I'm not even going to get into that right now. Anyway, the first day, they have a half-hour of homeroom before first period. And then they shorten all the periods. You get your schedule, and they go over any major policy changes in homeroom.

I'm scrawling at a legal pad right now.

Half of the people in the room -- exactly half, because it's every other person -- doesn't have a schedule. There are two other homerooms missing half their schedules, and then three homerooms with no schedules at all.

This situation -- this odd, rediculous situation -- has reminded me of the iron-like grip that the Guidance Office has on my school.

See, I can complain about the principal, or teachers, or stuff, but you know what? It's Guidance you have to watch out for.

They don't even call themselves "Guidance", either. They call themselves "Pupil Personnel Services".

And now, nearly 47 minutes into the 24 minute homeroom -- they convinced the principal to hold the bell, while we waited for them to print the missing schedules -- we wait, with baited breath, for their next move.

(I'm bored, and that was supposed to sound dramatic. Or psychotic. One of the two.)