They've been seriously annoying me lately. He's been here, staying in this extremely tiny room for nearly THREE WEEKS STRAIGHT, and today, when my RA came to ask where we were living next semester, he was the one who opened the door. And apparently she smells something on his jacket or something, because five minutes later we have the police at our door, wanting to do a SEARCH for MARIJUANA.
Great. Just great.
Of course, they didn't find anything--although I know Carlton does smoke it, just not here. It would be disrespectful, he says--but still. They went through the whole process of looking through our stuff and bringing the dog in to sniff everything, and then they interrogated us and accused us of being high right then--trying to get us to just crack and confess and tell them where it was.
In two years living on this floor, there has never been a drug search, even though there were people who did drugs in their room, and when it does happen, it happens to my room.
Aren't I just lucky.
I can't wait for this semester to be over. And yay for finding an apartment for next year.
In other news, I just wrote something for a Nine/Rose ficathon (which can be found here) tonight, because once again, I can't sleep, and because I haven't read or written anything for Doctor Who in a while, and I miss it.