Harold Frankfurt was *not* having a good day thus far.
To begin with, he had nearly overslept, which would have made him miss his plane out to Wales. That would cause him to be late to his new school, Saint Dymphna's Highschool. Although, he still isn't sure *why* it's named after a saint named Dymphna if it was a highschool, but he theorized that was merely his American upbringing and public school experience talking.
After an annoyingly long flight, he had managed to get all the way to the school, where he'd be living for the next year. That wasn't so bad. If the cab you had to take didn't cost you most of your current remaining travel funds.
And then, to put the grand topper on his day filled with annoyances, he got lost. It was quite a large school, and nobody offered to help out the lost transfer student. Harold pushed his glasses back up his nose, and quickly went over the likelihood of such an occurance. (No, obivously that would never happen. It is not apart of human nature to be helpful. Or apart of Nature in general actually). Perhaps he should have looked at the map beforehand more thoroughly....no, more likely than not he'd just end up lost based off of the directions, and/or the way he was looking at it. Maps were very confusing existences.
So, Harold wandered the vast grounds that made up St. Dymphna's, wishing all the while that his brain had a talent more useful for keeping himself from getting lost. (No wait, then I would not have my skill with computers and robotics. Forget losing that!). Harold continued on, looking for anyone whom he could pester for directions to the proper dorm building.