Well, through lack of anything else to do with my evening (it’s 7pm, the people who normally live on-campus have gone out, I’ve eaten dinner, washed up the pots I cooked it in, divvied it up into plastic containers for later use, made a sign for the fridge telling everyone else they can have some as long as two are left for me, unrolled my swag in the campus bedroom, washed up all the dirty dishes the previous resident left there, and done as much of the community puzzle as I can stand at the moment, and the idea of spending my late evening doing homework really doesn’t appeal at all), I will shortly start posting some old homework, which I’ve been meaning to do for a while.
Until then, here’s something I’ve recently discovered about myself: I really can’t stand to eat alone. I can quite fairly blame my father’s “family meals are utmost” regime for that one, but it’s just so awkward. I noticed it on the aeroplanes in January, when I felt the need to pause the movie and make conversation over the meal (while everyone else watched their movies and got increasingly annoyed with me interrupting them). I suppose it also explains why, when I’m at home alone, I always put the television on.
Oh, yes, I’m staying on-campus tonight to better maximise my essay-writing time this week. And yes, my uni does have a bookable community bedroom.