On normal nights, my suitemates lock the suite doors at 12 AM, and then I proceed to go in and out several times, leaving the doors unlocked in the process. Tonight I happened to be at the library until late (not gonna lie, the UCSD nerdiness gets to even the best of us at some point or other). And just my luck... I go upstairs through the backway to my balcony, and upon trying the door... I realize that my normal method of entry is just not going to happen tonight.
So I've been downstairs in my friend's room for the past four hours trying to get some studying done as he snores away happily. His roommate is reading aloud facts about LDL cholestrol and reciting the Kreb cycle, all done while rapping to TI, very atrociously I might add. But he raps with passion, and really, I have always been a supporter of all things done with passion.
Periodic trips upstairs to check if my suitemates are awake have proved more or less futile. Somehow in my sleep-deprived state, standing at the window peering in with a puppy-dog expression seemed like it might telepathically elicit some sort of response. Obviously not, as I'm still here, and nothing has changed.
Friday night was the last drinking episode ever of freshman year with H, K, and S. Andre Nickatina backing out of the concert last minute was a disappointment, but Mistah FAB was fun. I got trampled and lost a shoe, but I dared not to venture back into that mosh pit until the crowd had subsided. After one too many incidents with my never-healing big toenail, I wasn't about to take any more chances. That thing has been a sight to behold for about six months now, with virtually no signs of improvement.
I am never doing laundry on a drinking night again. It is far too much obligation to wake up to the combination of 1) bad breath and day-old makeup, 2) the unpleasant sight of alcoholic clutter littering the desk and floor, and 3) three loads of laundry to carry/de-wrinkle/fold. Saturday mornings were created only for happy things, like Belgium waffles and Facebooking in bed.
As of 9:14 AM I have lost all interest in my MMW3 notes, as fascinating as Bedouin nomadic pastoralists are. As always, Facebook came to the rescue and picked me up momentarily out of the fiery pits of boredom. The best Facebook group discoveries are most definitely discovered during all nighters, e.g. "Writing Papers Single Spaced First Makes My Double Spaced Result Climactic" and "I Want Detective Stabler to Specially Victimize Me with His Unit." I have never felt more strongly so early in the morning about such causes.
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