There are about three constants in college: You're always hungry, you're always tired, and you always have something better you could be doing. Take, for example, the past twenty-four hours of my life.
It all started at about eight last night. My roommate and I were sitting in our room, chilling, doing homework, when all the sudden, Liz pops the question.
"Hey Callie? Wanna go get doughnuts?"
Now, keep in mind, we're fifteen minutes away from the nearest doughnut shop.
"I don't know, Liz… I have to study. And I still have to do Spanish homework, and read that stuff for Philosophy…"
"Come on," she says, "you've got nothing better to do." And with that she grabs her keys and we walk out the door.
We get to the doughnut place, where they have yet to start spitting out fresh doughnuts. "But it's only going to be fifteen minutes," Liz says, "let's wait." So we wait. And wait. And wait. An hour later, a woman comes out with Liz's fresh doughnut, which takes all of two seconds to eat. I stand by patiently, silently, while she eats her doughnut in front of me. See? That's what annoys me. She drags me away from my warm room for doughnuts, doesn't give me time to get my wallet, and then doesn't let me have a bite? But I digress.
Flash forward to about eleven that night. I just got out the shower and got my pj's on, and am curled up in bed with my Biology book for some last minute review. Well, last minute turns into hour and a half, when I get a phone call.
"Hey, this is Liz's roommate, right?" slurs a male voice.
"Uh… Liz is over here at the Houses, can you come get her?"
"And I'm to assume she can't drag her own sorry behind back?" I quip. Needless to say, this is not what I want to be doing right now. So, I throw on some sweats and a pullover, slip into my "bum" shoes and trek across campus to find my drunken roommate.
I get to the right place to find not only is she completely skunk faced, but she is passed out on someone's sofa. "Liz!" I yell, jabbing her in the side with my finger. "Get up!" After much poking and prodding she sits straight up and vomits. Fifteen minutes of vomiting, spitting, and relocating her stuff (not to mention sneaking out an illegal bottle of alcohol in her book bag), we're off. Of course, now we play twenty questions.
"What if campus safety catches us?"
"They won't, now shut up!"
"How drunk was I?"
"Liz, shut up."
"Who all was there?"
"I don't know! I just came to get you!"
"Did I throw up?"
"You know I don't throw up when I'm drunk usually, right?"
"How much did I throw up?"
"I'll tell you when you're sober."
"Did I bite anybody?"
"I'll tell you when you're sober."
"Did you get my alcohol?"
"I'll tell you when you're sober." I should have thrown it out.
"Are the Frat Houses going?" I hear the music too. They are definitely going.
"No." At this point, she jerks out of my grasp and beelines toward the fraternity houses. I grab her arm and drag her back toward our dorm.
"Why can't I go?" she asks, whining.
"Because one, you have a Chinese test tomorrow, and two, they'd turn you away as soon as they saw your IFC card you're so far gone."
The questions continued until we got back to the room, complete with laying down in the hallway and on the floor in our room while I had to pull out her sofa bed (because we just couldn't get a futon like the rest of campus) and turn it down and make it up (because we can't put the sheets on after we wash them, only after we're stumbling drunk), and get everything like the princess wants. Then I had to hide her phone and get her pillow and turn on her fan and turn off my coffee maker and do everything else the queen tells me to. By the time I make sure she's on her side and got a trash can near her, I'm fuming and she's trying to drunk text people.
And then there's this morning. I slept through my alarm and missed breakfast, then had to go to Phys Ed, where we had to run a mile. So by the time class is over, I'm starving. I barely have time to go back to the dorm, shower and dress, and grab a cereal bar before Biology, where I have a test that I know nothing about. All because Liz wanted doughnuts on a Tuesday.
On the bright side, it's six now, and I'm clacking away at my computer to write this for class while Liz tries to sleep off last night's antics. But the funny thing is, I keep losing my pencil, so I have to keep turning the lights on. And my laundry won't seem to get dry, so I have to keep leaving and checking on it. And I keep forgetting to grab the door handle at the last second so she can get some peace and quiet. Actually, I really want some coffee right now… Maybe the light won't wake her.