i. am. starving.

I am waiting for my friend down the hall to finish her experiment and go eat with me. I would normally go by myself but I stupidly told her an hour ago when I WASN'T starving that I would wait.

One of the girls that I work with here just loaned me this movie called Griffin and Phoenix. She told me that it was soooo good and that I had to watch it, but I'm wary. Here's why. This movie is about a guy that is diagnosed with inoperable cancer, so he starts taking a psychology class about dealing with death. While there he meets a woman who he likes, but she is very standoffish and reluctant to date. Despite this they start spending time together, fall in love, etc. Well, one day for some reason she flips out and reveals that SHE has inoperable cancer too. And then there's probably some moral lesson at the end, I don't know.

Come on. This sounds suspiciously like one of those Nicholas Sparks stories where the writer is like "let's come up with something so improbably tragic that the audience has no choice but to collapse into a weeping miserable pile." And the worst part is that I know that if I watch this movie, that is exactly what will happen to me. I'll be sitting in my room alone, probably with ice cream, bawling into a snotty kleenex and hugging my unspeakably filthy stuffed dog Spike from the third grade. It'll be like a Cathy comic strip. Kill me.

I don't think I'm going to watch it.

In other news, I am getting really sick of my roommate. Anyone who knows me knows that I like to read. So almost every day I will come home and pick up a book and just chill out for an hour or so. Unfortunately, she comes home at about the same time and insists on regaling me in some completely uninteresting story about her job. Even though it is SO obvious that I am doing something that requires concentration and relative quiet.

Well, because of this I have begun to go into my room and shut the door to read after work. This has only made it worse, because Emily will come in and ask where I am, to which Sara will reply "pfft...probably in her room reading like an old lady."

I can't even explain how mad this makes me. Because not only does she not have respect for my right to hang out by myself for two fucking seconds, she also views mental stimulation through reading as a passe activity of yesteryear. No wonder old folks are annoyed by our generation. Kill me if I ever raise an only child.

Obviously I am in a bitchy mood. I think I'll blame it on the weather.

PS I cannot freaking wait for the Sex and the City movie tomorrow, and I don't care who knows it.