9.21.2009

Connection failure

I love this school. You all know that by now. Love. this. school.

Hate this school's internet capabilities.

Like seriously. It's almost like clockwork: every 3-5 minutes around the clock the internet will go out, just unexpectedly. And it'll be down for a minute or two and then be back up again.

Just like that.

It makes it seriously hard to do things like blog, check Twitter, perhaps do some homework, and do the really important things like catch up on episodes of Mad Men.

How am I supposed to get through the week if I can't get my Sunday night dose of Don Draper? I mean, really. That's just unreasonable, people.

In other news, I'm back on the college eating system again. This is also not good. Friday night the dining hall served the most delicious Boston creme pie ever. EVER. I ate two pieces of it and I am not ashamed to say that. That's how good it was.

Of course, I paid for it later when all I could do was lie on the couch, moan, and question my intelligence. (They were big pieces. And I am a short girl. When I eat a big meal, the only place the food can go is outward in my general stomach vicinity. I was rawkin' the tummy pooch-over-the-jeans look that night.)

Oh, and then there was last night, after I made and ate almost an entire bag of microwavable popcorn and chased that with about 27 malted milk balls. Good lord in heaven: I was on the sugar high of all sugar highs. I think I bounced for about 30 minutes straight. And then collapsed on the couch.

But really, I *am* trying to eat at least kind of healthily. I ate a banana yesterday (among other things). I also put frozen yogurt on top of my brownie last night instead of soft serve. And I let some of the butter drip off my whole wheat bagel before I ate it this morning. It's the little things.

All I'm sayin' is: if I come home in December and they have to roll me through the door, so be it. A bagel a day keeps the homesick at bay.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

We'll roll you through the door anytime, sweetie. Just come home. We miss you. And Lula says, "The dog is depressed."

Love,
marmsie and popsicle