Uggggh this is the worst ever like all I want to do is sit on my bed and eat sweets and watch the Lord of the Rings, like is that too much to ask? Why must this be? If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Speaking of which, Sadie honey, I know it’s late and cold, but you seriously might want to think about showering, because they can probably smell you in Westwood. How am I supposed to sleep in here like this? And why on earth does everyone seem to hate fresh air? I really do try to keep the window open, man, I really do. I don’t think we’re in any danger of cat burglars or errant Claremont-era Spidermen, Besides, what do we have to steal? Probably a couple grand worth of textbooks, yeah, but I don’t think that’s on any master thief’s top ten. Although I guess one never knows. Good ol Lee the Libertarian did say something about someone breaking into somebody’s dorm and making away with all their study supplies (and this person was a linguistics major, so the loss of that exorbitant Intro to Ling brick must have been extraordinarily devastating). Hopefully that’s something that only happens in Ohio, but who can say? Maybe I should start sleeping with all my textbooks under my pillow.

I can’t believe I broke up with Ty. He seemed so stable. It’s too bad he turned out to be such a massive piss coordinator. Why is that always the case? Maybe I should date someone superficially rude and moody and they would turn out to be a being of pure sweetness and light underneath it all. Just like Mr. Darcy, except, you know, not. I don’t play that way. Sydney Carton is and will always be my goal. But man, how am I going to find someone like that? Life isn’t a Dickens novel (thank goodness), and unfortunately, I think the likelihood of me finding a perfect soulmate is just about equal to the likelihood of me finding the Shire. Whether it’s The One Ring or just simply The One, I’m up the creek without a dog in the gunfight either way. Which sounds rather gloomy, but come on, I’m an experienced woman– I’ve lived for almost two decades. Surely I know something about the world by now. (Also, I think that was a most beautifully mixed metaphor. I’m a veritable alchemist with language) What’s a poor girl to do? Maybe I should run away and live in a hermitage. If I did that, though, I wouldn’t get to take any more linguistics classes, and then where would I be? Oh no, that is just not an option. Well, I feel that I am dangerously close to an existential crisis, so I think on this happy note, I will retire to my bed (where I might have a crisis anyway, but at least I’ll be theoretically in the right place). Goodnight y’all!