11 a.m.: Wake up to anrgry doorbell. Answer door in jimjams. Chat with mailman. Complain about being lonely over fall break.
11:07 a.m.: Reject mailman’s offer to drink bourbon on his stoop later. Save his number in case I get that desperate for human companionship.
12 p.m.: Walk over to Bui’s in my jimjams. No one’s here, no one will know.
12:19 p.m.: Obviously run into T.A. He’s judging me.
12:57 p.m.: Nap on couch. Drool.
4:47 p.m.: Wake up in a panic! Did I miss Gilmore Girls????
5:02 p.m.: Thank. God. Lorelai and Rory squabble. All’s right with the world again.
6:00 p.m.: BYO Beijing. Attempt to drink 4Loco. Realize it’s not Sparks. Gross. Not a fan. Pull sour faces.
7:10 p.m.: See Easy A for the third time. Buy extra large popcorn. Get a free coke. It’s real large.
10 p.m.: Attempt to rally the two friends I have who are still on campus to go out. Decide it’s a little too desperate to show up at Smoke’s alone.
10:03 p.m.: Show up at Smoke’s alone.
10:15 p.m.: Drink a pitcher of Miller Light with geriatric Wilber, Smoke’s superstar. He tells me he’s member #069 of Smoke’s, whatever that means.
10:17 p.m.: Find out why his number is #069.
10:19 p.m.: Run into a freshman–year friend. Catch up awkwardly. Get called ‘virgin lesbians’ by Wilber because we ‘didn’t know’ what a 69 was.
11:30 p.m.: Stumble home. Buy a box of ice cream sandwhiches from Wawa. Eat them in the dark in my apartment. Watch The Way We Were. Drool.
