Angry Desjornias: The Sequel

A quick update on my dorm situation.

The International Student Office was closed all last week, so I wasn't able to get my “napravleneya” (the document that says that I am able to live in the dorm until a certain date). So, I spent the weekend doing Mission Impossible-esque stunts to make sure I didn't pass by my desjornia. I was successful until Monday morning. Early in the morning, I hear someone banging on a door. But, as it is about 6:30am and I can't tell whose door, I ignore it and go back to sleep.

About an hour later someone opens the door to my outer room, yelling all the while. I slowly start of wake up, only to be dragged out of bed by my screaming desjornia and another screaming desjornia who I think came from a different floor (I guess she thought she needed backup. Those terrorist-looking people are wily, don't you know.) They start yelling at me about documents and dates, during which time I am staring at them dumbly. You must remember, I was just yanked out of bed – sound asleep – by old, angry, screaming ladies hours before I needed to get up.

Soon enough, I catch on to what they are saying and try to explain to them that the office was closed and that I will get them my documents when the office opens. And no, I can't go to the Russian students' office, seeing as I am not a Russian student. She must not have heard me through all her shrieking of “NAPRAVLENEYE SAYCHAS, DEVOOSHKA,” because she grabs my arm and pulls me out into the hallway in my socks and pajamas. I try to explain that I can't go to the office now because, first, it is not open and, second, I am in my bloody PAJAMAS! Eventually, I break free of her clutches and run back to my room, Seminoles t-shirt and all.

It is Mission Impossible for another day until the International Students' Office opens and I am able to tell the lady there about my whole napravleneye situation. She picks up the phone, calls my desjornia, and tells her that all is fine and I am supposed to be living in the dorm. She then hangs up the phone and ushers me out.

When I get back, my desjornia smiles at me all pleasant-like, greets me with “Dobrie dein” and allows me on my way. And thus endeth the napravleneya situation...hopefully.