It is three o'clock in the morning and I felt my eyelids drooping over as I proof read my paper for the millionth time. I wanted to succumb to an endless dream world of hearts and flowers that keeps taunting me with its sweet whispers, but being the pedant person that I am, I knew I wouldn't be able to fall sleep. I would end up thinking about whether or not if I put the comma before or after the "but" or something else so trivial that I would just end up dragging myself up out of bed to continue working on my tedious paper. Though, I have yet to find any atrocities against literature, I am still convinced that there is one somewhere in this gwad forsaken research paper. Seriously who even cares about the similarities between the Red Scare and Arthur Miller's The Crucible? I sure as hell don't right now!
I am in serious need of a break so I got up from my desk and hobbled out into the hall towards the kitchen. I needed something acidic. Bad. Some people used caffeine to stay awake, but I preferred acidic substances. Like orange juice. I know, I know, I'm so outlandish and rebellious.
I peered into the fridge and quickly grabbed the OJ so I could escape from the blistering cold of the fridge. I didn't even bother to get a glass because it's not like I have to worry about anyone else complaining about my drinking out of the carton habit. Hopefully that status wouldn't change in the next few days.
My landlord had asked me a few weeks ago if I minded sharing an apartment with someone. I seriously thought he was talking about himself, so I told him I wasn't interested and that he was downright creepy. I remember him laughing it off and merely stating that a college girl around my age was in dire need of a living area and that since I was the only college girl living in a two bedroom apartment, if I minded sharing. I wanted to say that I did in fact mind, but that would have made my look like a snob. Besides it would be nice to not have to pay the entire rent by myself and to have someone to call in case I lock myself out again. Although I wouldn't really mind if she decided that my apartment sucked. I was indifferent towards her choice to live here or not. As long as she didn't drink all the OJ, I was fine.
After about half an hour and finally feeling confident that my paper would get a decent grade, I printed it out and put it away in my folder to be ready to hand in tomorrow. I closed my laptop and sauntered over to my bed and collapsed. I didn't even bother to get under the covers. Its nights like these that I'm glad I own my own private collection of sixty-seven pairs of fuzzy toe socks.