ah, college.

you know you're a college student when the first place you look for the phone book is under your roommate's bed, behind her sneakers--and you find it in two seconds flat.

you also know you're a college student when the reason you need the phone book is so you can price-shop for the storage unit in which you and your roommate will keep your shit during the next two weeks, because you still don't know for sure where you'll be living.

shit: mismatched 70's dinnerware, copies of Walden and A Doll's House and all the other things you already should have read, printer that was free but requires $40 ink cartridges, clothes, christmas decorations, 6 months backlog of Rolling Stone, and all the other miscellany you don't realize you own until you're cramming it all in $4 plastic tubs from Fred Meyer.

how do you explain to someone how lovely this is? two weeks of shitlessness and open-endedness. two weeks where no one will have contact with me unless i call them.