Troll Facebook. What I’m about to say would probably fall under the hash tag, #TimesWhenINeedToRethinkMyLife. Often times, I find myself logging on to Facebook to find nearly 10 (that’s right! 10!) whole Facebook notifications. For two pathetic nano seconds, I’m filled with a certain sad little bit of confidence. ‘Cause you know, the basis of how many people think I’m cool is purely established on how many notifications I get. 85-99% of the time, they’re either from that creepy kid that keeps sending me Facebook game requests, or my granny. Now no disrespect to my granny, ‘cause she’s cool as shit. However you know its moments like that, that I feel I need to start taking more sexy web cam pictures of me while laying on my bed, in the mid-afternoon light, with a charming smile across my almost make-up free face….and my tits discretely hanging halfway out of my shirt. Maybe I would get some likes from males! All problems solved!
Go visit Jake and Sean. I sometimes probably need to consider how I’ve worn out my welcome in their room, but Jake and Sean are two of few people on my hall that I actually like and we have good conversations. And I love them. And sometimes we watch Brickleberry. Mostly it’s Jake and me talking about our elitist tastes in music or arguing about how much I think The Big Bang Theory sucks. Sean graces with his presence, but is usually turned away checkin’ out what’s going on in the social media world and beyond (*scoff* as if there is a beyond). He is useful for showing us funny things he finds on Stumbleupon or when and if he has good music to share. One time we all watched the last half of Mean Girls. It was magical.
Pillow Talk Politics with my Roommate. While the vast majority of what we talk about is mostly just bitching about this and that or he and she, recently Chloe and I have been slightly more philosophical and scholarly with our before bed banter. However, before I continue, please take note to my effective use of alliteration and superior word choice (I could have said syntax but I’m not feeling that douchy) that made the former sentence so damn fancy. Done? Ok, then I cease my digression. ANYWAY. Chlo-Mo and I literally have discussed our opinions on the two party systems or the upcoming election not once but on at least two occasions. I mean, there really ain’t nothing better than curling up in bed, after a long day, to ramble on half-unconsciously about our desired economic plans.
Eat delicious food. What does every good college student do when they get bored? Eat the closest thing next to them! Most of the time it can be edible too! Currently my stash of food consists of almonds, stale cookies, gluten-free rice bread, an extra large jar of old peanut butter, and “The World’s Finest” chocolate bars leftover from a choir fundraiser back home. Aka, everyone is coming over to sample this massive buffet! To be honest, a slight hunger pang ain’t nothin’ a little spoonful of peanut butter can’t fix. I’ve definitely seen more desperate solutions to blasting hunger. Last week, some of my (male) friends found half of a pizza in a box, not in, but beside a trashcan. They ate it.
Write a blog post. I find that my levels of sarcasm, wittiness, and definitely bitchiness, tend to be the best in tact when I’m sitting around in my room on a night most people are… definitely not. Thus I am turned into a moody, salt-block, of a female. This is probably just a preview to what my life will be like in 10 years…. except then I’ll have cats! Lots of them!
Things not to do on the nights you don’t go out in college.
Troll Twitter. All you get is a bunch of pictures on Instagram (which is abused, by the way) of 15 year-old girls in totally appropriate-to-their-age clothing, taking bathroom selfies on a night out. It just makes you feel bad and weird. Real classy stuff.
I probably need to go to bed. That’s always a good option too.