Something's been on my mind since this morning..

Like, today we had to register for next year's classes.

Big whoop, I did this last year.

My lineup:

English III (Honors) [ Yeah, I totally chicken'd out of AP.. Pretty much because of the test and the money.. ]

AP Calculus [ If I pass pre-cal, rofl. ]

US Government (Regular) [ Lol. No honors, and I AM NOT taking AP with MORELAND. AGAIN. You can't make me go through that again. Ever. ]

AP Psycology [ My favorite class, maybe except for band. Adam's taking it.. and like, a million other people I love. It's going to be amazing. 'Nuff said. ]

French I and II [ Because I AM NOT taking Spanish or Latin. Blah. And I know the French teacher is amazing. ]

Marching band [ My new found love. It's the class that keeps me sane in the end. It's a class where I'm surrounded by people I know, friends, and all, where I'm outside, traveling, and getting exorcise in a way I enjoy. It's a must. ]

Anyways, back to the story.

My main thought then, "Wow, they better not fuck up my schedule 5 times again."

And, because I had to go with the flags to the middle school (that sucked, bad), I was in class late.

So I go to the office with Ashley and get all that situated..

Then I go to class.

And Mrs. Stansbitch is up at the overhead, giving the usual lab quiz, since today was lab day.

"Where's your note?"

"The office took it. They said call them if you need info."

"Oh, well, they need you in guidance."

"Can I at least leave my stuff?" (I had EVERYTHING with me, and I was soaked, if you want a visual. I look like a walking zombie with a broken back.)

"No, take it with you. Go!"

.....
Jeez.

So I walk in there, totally feeling like an idiot, and the lady asked if I was me, and I sat down at the table with the rest of the kids with my guidance counselor.

She gets over to me, acting like I have everything done, and was all like, "You ready?"

I was like "Uh, no. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.. I just got here."
I could have sworn my eye was twitching, as Tsuki (who was sitting at the other table) was staring at me, kinda giggling to herself.

My counselor handed me these 2 highlighters and told me to highlight stuff..

She highlighted my classes that I was going to take, and left.

So I'm sitting there, looking at this mysterious white paper.
With my fugly school picture at the bottom.

I was so confused. @_@

And I hear <s>Ryan</s>Stacy, asking people their rank.

Rank?
Wtf?

And of course, he asks me.

And I looked at him, and was all like, "Wtf are you talking about?"

He pointed to this box on our transcript, where it gave our class rank.

35.

I guess that's good, right?

Well, that's what I thought, until I realized that all the people I hang out with have higher ranks than me.

Kinda pissed me off, being the person who likes to be either the same as them, or higher.

So it's been bothering me all day...

One number never bothered me so much, seriously.

Not even that 27 I got on my Pre-Cal test.

35 out of 296.

Wouldn't most people be happy?

I try to look at it and be happy, but it just keeps irking me..

What should I do?!

x.x