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One evening, I went to a store that seemed to be a combination of a supermarket and an arts and crafts place. In a slightly spacious corner, I found Meghan Fadel. I was surprised to see her and immediately began talking to her about how I was so far behind in my readings for English classes. She was slightly behind, but not remotely as bad as me. In talking to her, I was getting slightly hyperactive, and at one point amidst my erratic hand motions, I ended up inadvertently hitting her left shoulder. I was instantly apologetic, perhaps overly so, because I hugged her in guilt. I do not believe she knew exactly what to make of me. We turned and walked into an aisle and encountered her mother, who showed me something that was sitting on one side of the aisle shelves. It was some sort of miniature steel oven for making brownies. The inside of this oven was impossibly gigantic. It would take about 6 chocolate cakes on a conveyor belt, and all sorts of dense automated machinery would violently pound down onto the cakes, cutting them into cube shaped pieces. Thus, they were brownies. Much of the cake material was completely wasted in this process.

I was at home at night, drinking what was most likely Jack Daniels whiskey. My mom was with me and even tried a shot. She hated it. My downstairs bathroom was about twice as large as it should have been, and I attributed this to my apparently being buzzed. I had the terrible feeling that I was never going to catch up on my schoolwork.