Dear Diary,
The authorities decided to simultaneously issue a copious amount of tests for all of the accounting and management classes. Fifteen minutes prior to opening hours, a hoard of zombie accounting students waited for me to open the doors. I barely scraped by with my life fending off the undead from tearing me limb from limb and feasting on my brains. The tutor fared no better. Every single one of the zombies barraged him with questions while digging their claws into his fleshy skin. The books have seen better days. The hoard of zombies attacked the front desk all at once to get their claws on their second life source "knowledge." The information from the books and the tutor is their antidote to turn them back to human.
Their undead moans for "knowledge" and "help" to pass the dreaded exams is deafening. Concentrating is incredibly difficult for everyone within the parameters of the Accounting Lab. Any chance for me to ask the tutor to watch the desk so that I can take a bathroom break seems highly unlikely seeing as the undead are great in numbers. I will not be able to take a moment to vacate my bowels for the next few hours at the very least. My bladder feels like it's about to explode. The smell of the collective undead is unbearable. If this goes on any longer I will be forced to resort to burning down the Accounting Lab again.
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