I wrote this last night, while I was at The Tea Place, studying.
If I stay here alone past six-thirty, I'll begin to look like a loser. Oh well. Tim and I would have felt uncomfortably like we were supposed to act in a dreadful prole movie if we had gone out tonight. There would have been too many people making out all around us, and they would have looked like mating sheep or something. I would have inevitably mentioned it. Better for the health and happiness of the general public that we stay holed up in our respective rooms and see each other on Saturday instead. We're going to visit the conservatory. I like that boy a lot.
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