Mingling

I'm quite terrible at it. Not only is it hard, but exhausting as well. If I could find the privacy, I would probably start making a pathetic keening noise and curl up into a ball on the floor until either my moment of privacy ended or I felt better.

Chances are that my moment of privacy would end before I felt better. Downside of living in the dorm.

A Bit Too Insane

It is eleven forty-eight PM right now. I'm kind of sad--excepting a twenty minute dash through my room, gathering up materials I'd need for my third class today, I haven't been back to my room since nine-thirty this morning. That's waaayy too long. Is it possible to be homesick when you're only about a hundred yards away?

I'm almost ready to go back, though. I'm in the computer lab, finishing up an essay, because I'd have to trek out here to print it when I finished, anyway. And now I have a good motivator to finish it quickly and get to bed. Bed sounds good.

Another good motivator? The guy in here with me--well, his feet stink. There are no windows. It's stuffy and stinky in here.

Gotta finish, gotta finish, gotta finish...

Beloved Backpack

I just got a good whiff of the inside of my backpack. It smells like a mix of old, sweaty, soccer stuff and chocolate chip cookies.

I hope the cookie I carried in it yesterday doesn't smell like nasty soccer gear. I was really looking forward to eating it.

Uh-oh...

My roommate broke her headband.

I lent her my superglue to fix it.

The first thing I said to her as I handed it over was, “Be careful not to glue your fingers together. It really can happen.”

Her eyes got big and she said, “Really? Whoa.”

I nodded and told her again to be careful. She said, "Okay!" and proceeded to glue her headband back together.

I turned around and went back to chatting with my friend online for a few minutes.

Then I hear my roommate go, “Uh-oh.”

Three guesses as to what happened.