What the hell, Barnard?

I just got a call from Residential Life telling me that they're having trouble with pipes on the 8th floor, and need to access some through a wall in our room. This means we get to move, yay! *grinds teeth* And then she was all "Hey, can I call you back in a little bit?" like she had someone more important to talk to than the girl whose life she was turning upside down. I don't have time to deal with this shit, yo.