The train just left the station, and I totally missed it.

Ok. Well. I was all set to write stuff in here . . . stuff about lunches and boredom and . . . stuff. But then I remembered that Dane said to read his comment on my last blog, and I did, and it was . . . more touching than I care to admit, because I don't get "touched," but yeah. Anyway. So now I'm having a lot of trouble remembering what I was going to say.

Alright, I think I found it. I don't know who's eating lunch with whom today (and I never learned the grammatical difference between "who" and "whom"), and I'm having trouble deciding whether it really matters to me that much. I was pretty frustrated with Sarah last night; I had to move dorms so she ate with Caleb on the assumption that she'd spend all afternoon and evening with me, helping me move, but then she found out Dane was and my "best friend's" contribution to the move effort was two Victoria's Secret bags, a Gap bag, and some of my stuff that had been in her room. And then, after Dane went to Study Hall, she came by to help me unpack, and while it was very helpful, she didn't stay very long before deciding she was hungry. So we went to Subway, leaving my room in a state of near-complete disarray, and she wanted to talk, so we spent a very long time at Subway, which is not her fault because we hadn't really talked for awhile. I just wish we could've done it in my room, while unpacking my stuff, but I didn't insist on it so I don't blame her for that. But then she decided she couldn't really help anymore until I was closer to being done, so she left, saying she'd call me later. By 2200, she still hadn't called, so I texted her and asked if she was still going to. She said yes. I said make it soon because my roommate's trying to sleep. Then, since my phone batteries were nearly dead, I took my phone, charger, and self out to the dayroom to wait. And wait. And finally asked again if she was going to call or should I just go to bed? She said Go to bed. I said she should know better by now than to do things like that and not expect me to get angry. So she called. And after we'd been talking for about 15 minutes, I asked if she'd made it out to Caleb's and she said she was calling from there. Wow. That is so . . . beyond angering. Not that she was at Caleb's; I don't give a shit. That she had said she'd call, and then went to Caleb's, where she inevitably stays until at least 2330 (and is incommunicado with the world), and was intending to call me afterwards. The sheer lack of consideration boggles the mind. When added to her childishness with the whole Dane situation, I begin to wonder how well I really know her.

She was gone all last weekend and came back asking me why I'd gone insane. And asking Dane why he's insane. If I were gone for a weekend, and I came back, and all my friends seemed crazy, simultaneously, I think I'd probably assume that something in me had changed. (Except that I know already that Dane and I did both change this past weekend, but I think Sarah did, too.) But anyway. None of this was actually anything I wanted to say. I mean, clearly, I wanted to say it, but I was really going to comment more on "the peak of boredom," as demonstrated this morning. Here 'tis:

I found myself decorating an Aquafina bottle with a Sharpie this morning, and then rubbing half the ink off with paper to give it a more "distressed" look, and decided that I had reached the peak of boredom. Until walking here, to the library, at lunchtime, when I saw a man with a straw broom sweeping a lawn mower. As in, running the broom over the top of it---a lot---to cleanse it of . . . what? Grass bits? Dust? Maybe people like to have clean lawn mowers, but I was a groundskeeper for 2 years and I never swept a lawn mower. That's just weird. But it looked like the kind of thing I would've done to look like I was working. Find some BS bit of menial labor and go nuts. Yeah. Sweepin' lawn mowers . . .