PS: Even though it was peanut butter, and even though I couldn�t eat the whole piece, the pie was fucking delicious, bitch.
I hurt all over. Ow.
I just sent this letter to Brown Residential College:
Dear Sirs or Madams of the Brown Residential College Admissions Board,
My friend and I write to you this evening to ask for an estimate on when the Brown admissions page will be updated again. We understand that, as fellow university students, there are just as many demands on your time as there are on ours. However, we also feel we understand that you sleep well at night, knowing that you have a home on grounds, a place to lay your head, and a secured dwelling next year, should you still be attending Mr. Jefferson�s fine University. We, on the other hand, get no sleep � tossing and turning with tears in our eyes, fearful of the unknown abyss that is our housing future. Tears stain our pillows, through and through, and our beloved roommates have left us, grown weary of the constant weeping at night and our subsequent sleep-deprived grouchiness in the morning. We would much appreciate hearing back from you, whenever you can find a moment to reply to us. After all, it is conventional wisdom that a forlorn sonnet to the housing that may or may not ever be is all the more poignant when the sonnet writer has some idea of when the next news of her housing fate is to arrive. Seriously, everyone knows that�s true, we swear.
Tearfully � yet hopefully � yours,