31/08/2002 - 12:22 a.m.

I can tell a hawk from a hacksaw.

Something incredibly scary washed over me in a wave of realisation just now. I have not had an honest to God conversation in person with anyone for about three days. Do you know how long I've been at college? Four days. And it's only three days because I'm counting that exchange with that Carson guy at the theatre. I mean, I've spoken to people, but it's all been a bit not in the least like a conversation. I spoke to Angel on MSN the other day, so I guess we can count that as the only real honest to good conversation I've had recently.

I guess that explains why I've been hoping to get some mail. I expect Turtle isn't around, but I may as well give her a ring tomorrow afternoon anyhow. Geeze.

This is also a pretty good explanation for why people don't talk back to me, no one is expecting so much conversation out of one person. I've been saving it all up, and when I get left with a thought, man, we all know how that goes. It turns big and hairy and ugly.

Remember junior year? That was me and big hairy ugly thoughts. Urgle. I was downright pathetic.

I'm thirsty, but I know if I wander down the hall to get something, water or Sunny D or even Pepsi, I'd have to find my keys, unlock the door, go out the door, lock the door again (for Polly's sake), go down there, come all the way back, unlock the door, come back in, lock the door, and then run the risk of having to go go the bathroom in half an hour.

Hmmm, to pee or not to pee: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the pangs and dryness of outrageous thirst,
Or to take arms against a sea of bathrooms,
And by opposing wet my pants?

This is getting to pathetic even for me.