I am starving and it's 2:40 am.

I've slowly and startlingly realized that I have eaten more fried eggs in the past month than ever in my life. Always two fried eggs with the yolks broken and American cheese, shredded cheddar in a pinch. The Evil Egg Man in the Vassar dining hall doesn't wear gloves or ever give you what you order*, but it's really hard to fuck up fried eggs. They're a low-risk, low-return kind of breakfast.

Eggs are a tricky food group**, because when they're hot they are the most savory and satisfying food on this sweet earth. When they are the slightest bit lukewarm, however, they are slimy and disgusting and I can barely stand to look at them. The time that elapses between these stages is never more than a few minutes, so I always eat my eggs like I'm about to go fight a fire (albeit not a particularly life-threatening or worrisome fire).

I will go make some fried eggs right now. There is something to be said for not living in a dorm right now, AKA having a kitchen and groceries at my disposal minus suspicious scum all over everything. I don't think I will wear pants, either.

It's something, but it's not much of a trade for not being at Vassar, with my sarcastic and beautiful friends and my mind-blowing classes and my wonderful boyfriend. I'm in minor-to-severe withdrawal, and all I really feel like doing is curling up with NPR and my humidifier and knitting an ugly scarf. I'm secretly 82.

My room at home remains a battlefield of stinky, not-yet-unpacked clothes.

* Common Scenario:
You: Good morning! Can I get a three-egg omelette with cheese, ham, and no tomatoes or spinach?
Evil Egg Man (EEM): Okay.
EEM takes large handful of tomatoes and ham, dumps into mushy eggish substance sans cheese and ham, hands whole mess to you.
You:...........thanks.
EEM: Yes.

**Major Food Groups According to Me: Bread (challah/ wheat/ French), Meat (red only), Coffee (black only), Eggs, Chinese Food, Chocolate. Sometimes I get a salad in the dining hall, just for show.