I've got a very dorm-room type of feeling today. As if I'm not supposed to be here and now, I'm supposed to be in our Nanticoke apartment at UMBC, three years ago. It's a strangely specific sort of feeling, because there's more to it than that. I ought to be in the living room, on the not-terribly-comfortable couch, with my brown afghan around me, flipping through the channels or watching a movie that only vaguely interests me. Rohini is in her room at her computer, browsing randomly through the internet and occasionally calling out tidbits about what she's reading. Laura is in my room at my computer, playing The Sims. Jessie is probably having an AIM conversation in her room with whatever boy she has been telling us about for the past few days. It's cloudy and occasionally rainy, and there's ice cream in the freezer, but no real food in the cabinets, and we're trying to decide if we want to go to the dining hall for dinner or go to the grocery store or just eat ice cream.
That's what today ought to be. But instead, I'm at work. With only 10.5 hours of this job left.
In a mostly-unrelated note, I realized today that Cute (Engaged?) Pharmacy Boy has taken the place in my mind that had been held (in the time previously described) by Pretty Tattooed Kayaking Class Boy. The main differences here are that I actually speak to Cute (Engaged?) Pharmacy Boy, but I have never seen him with his shirt off.