This is all a result of spending many hours doing absolutely nothing, mostly in hot and humid weather outside, while the supervisors of a mock crime scene act like total asshats, and then being forced to rush through everything to do with DNA with no information in less than ten minutes, and then have them get pissed off at you for not doing everything at the same time. And then Brian C. (who I hang with) hands me the evidence bag with a button in it that he collected, since one of my hands is already filled with evidence bags. Then later, Brian S. starts hollering at those of us who are not currently working the scene, looking for the button. I say "You're looking for the button, right? It's right here!" and hold it up. He completely ignores me and starts freaking out all over the place. I have to repeat myself, yelling at his dumb ass, a good five times. He finally goes "Oh, okay," and starts to walk off. I ask him what he wants me to do with it, and he tells me to go to Jeff (Mr. Miller, who was also functioning as our lab and suspects and everybody). I think, screw that, hail down Brian C. and all but throw his bag at him and tell him to hold on to his own fucking evidence from now on.
Other than everything, today was fun! I need to go take a shower, then fall into bed and die. That's about it.