How to Survive Your Final Semester, From Someone Who Just Survived Hers
There are firemen in my kitchen right now. They’re here for the second time today and the fifth time this week. My roommates can’t seem to figure out how to make popcorn and our alarm is too sensitive so, at this point, the firemen know us by name. We offer them drinks and cookies, and they laugh at how “I Love Lucy” incompetent we are, but I’m sure that deep down they hate us with a burning passion, no pun intended. It's the most awkward thing that's happened to me in a while, and I'm a habitually awkward person.