Finals

I've been sitting in the same spot on the couch for about four and a half hours. At one point, I realized my gut was hanging out, and my ponytail was smooshed to the side of my head. My neck is hot, and my mind can't focus. But I watch the letters appear on my laptop screen as I type and type and type and type.

Victoria is sitting across the living room with her hair pushed into her face "like her eyes are wearing a mustache" (says Brittany), while laughing at me in her Spongebob decrescendo. Periodically, she looks up from her laptop screen to make a funny face at me.

Brittany just left, after about four I-can't-take-this-anymore's, to get a Sno Cone with Mark.

Amy is calm, taking small bites into her little six-inch Subway sandwich. Her long hair is neatly braided, resting around her neck and down the front of her torso. She smiles and hums the songs that Victoria makes up in her insanity. This is because she does not have finals this week.

Victoria rolls from the couch onto the floor singing "pa-pa-pa poker face pa-pa poker face."

We are going insane.