It never changes, despite the seasons. Rushing through a crowd of students, I grind my molars and curse at no one in particular and everyone in general. Common sense and courtesy on the walkways here are as easy to find as an e-mail alert about an Alexander Gonzalez town hall meeting.

If you are not crammed shoulder-to-shoulder on the walkways, then you are nearly being run down by one of the super-cool skaters who feel the need to do ollies, McTwists and other effeminate-sounding tricks that are sure to get them straight to the next X-Games.

Now that I have insulted the skaters, I can expect angry e-mails about how hard it is to skate, how tough one needs to be to skate and how much I suck because I don’t skate.

But there are so many other more-deserving social criminals out there who need to be mentioned that it makes no sense to single out one group. The next target on my laundry list of complaints: people who don’t thank you for holding the door open.

Nowadays, you are lucky to get half of the people to acknowledge you. The rest of the time, you receive blank stares and a look of disdain from people who are probably too good for you in the first place.

That’s why the need for new buildings on campus is such an important issue. With new buildings will come automatic doors and the social interaction between people will become less necessary. That’s a world I want to live in.

As the day progresses, you learn to accept being bumped by people not watching where they are walking because they are texting, and it’s up to you to do their jobs for them and make sure they have a clear path.

After dodging the pack of slow-moving children who are on the campus for no apparent reason, you find yourself being preached to by one of the righteous activists, pressuring you to sign something that will undoubtedly improve the quality of the world both dramatically and instantaneously.

Then there are the people who wear sunglasses no matter the weather. Don’t you love these wastes of oxygen? It’s raining outside and the guy with the ripped jeans and tight T-shirt needs to make a fashion statement.

Students with the luggage-style backpacks that have wheels on them, give me a break. Do me a favor and ask them how their flight was or if they have jetlag.

Groups of people that clog the walkways with their inane yammering and pointless conversations make my arteries ache. When girls feel the need to giggle and hug in the middle of the path, I can feel the blood rush to my brain as I await my inevitable stroke.

Where are all these people coming from? Apparently the reason it’s so crowded is because Sacramento State set an enrollment record this semester. But before the administration pats itself on the back and calls it a day, it needs to be mentioned that Sac State still fell short of its projected enrollment, again. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. At least the gap in funding can be covered by charging us more.

But now I sense I got off topic and feel the need to revert back to the whiny diatribe that is this column.

Just in case your day wasn’t miserable enough, you happen to bump into someone from your past. Someone that you never really cared for, someone you could have gone an entire lifetime without seeing again and would have been completely content. You find yourself forced into awkward, pathetic small talk with a frumpy ex that for some reason has the audacity to think that you two are still friends.

You do everything you can to peel yourself away from the person who is mercilessly sucking away precious minutes of your life but they attach to you like a disease-carrying tick and follow you to your next class. Do yourself a favor; flee to the nearest building in hopes of shaking the parasite.

Keep your spirits high because the day is almost over. All that is left is the mad dash out of the parking lot. Move your car off the over-priced slab of gravel it rests on and watch out for the inbred maniacs who feel the need to squeal their tires like it’s the last day of high school. You made it. Now come back tomorrow and do it over.

Jordan Guinn can reached at [email protected]