I am officially out of meal points. The time has come to begin the ascetic life. From today on... I will deny all bodily pleasures. (MMW humor, I'm so funny.) Thus begins the "I-don't-have-meal-points" diet. This entails starving myself until my stomach feels like it's eating itself, and then standing around the cafeteria like a beggar until someone offers to swipe me. My mother will be delighted if I drop 5 pounds and will wonder why she ever bought me a meal plan in the first place. Honestly, who needs South Beach?
We picked our apartments today. The ones I wanted with balconies were all gone within the hour. I'm upset because my apartment has separated sinks (meaning no huge mirror for us to get ready in front of). The kitchen kind of small and awkwardly shaped. And worst of all, the building is named "Middle East." If I had to get a building I didn't want, at least I could have something cute like "Oceania," which sounds like a picturesque setting with seashells and Lisa Frank style multicolored dolphins. My future home is just a potential nuclear war zone.
... and now I'm going to take a nap to block all thought of food out of my mind.
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