Menthol-Guy

It was 8:48 AM and someone’s knocking on my door. “Laundry,” she shouted on the other side. Oh, I thought. It took years before the laundry arrived. I’m still in my boxers when I went to the door, eyes still disoriented from sleep, when I picked up the laundry.

“Hey, do you want to get your laundry?” To my surprise, the laundry girl didn’t bring anything. She pestered my sleep with a single knock on my door and a question with an answer so obvious.

“Of course, yeah,” I apologetically said, “I’m really sorry I went home at around 11 pm. It’s just a lot of stuff going on. Hey, mind if I get my laundry now? I’m off to school.” I’m trying so hard to hide my half-naked body behind the door, so I was leaning my head on the narrow gap made by the door and the frame.

“Okay, then. Be there in ten minutes.”

Uhh, decisions, decisions. I practically sat at the end of my bed and thinking about things–I’m tempted to sleep more and skip my 10-11:30 class, but that class was not really worth skipping. I’m also tempted to go home at around 1 and skip my 1-4 class which is a huge bulk in my schedule since it’s a Friday class and I need to go home every Friday. I have to catch up with a close friend’s debut later at 7 PM, which I am a hundred percent sure would have enough Tequila to punch our sane minds for a while. But given the 5-hour trip I have had last Friday, which was prolonged due to the interminable reconstruction of SLEX, I think I’m going to arrive at around 9 PM or worse (and that even the debutante would be drunk enough to welcome me).

But I guess I should just stick to my classes and don my damn-the-torpedoes bravado. All I know, I’ll try my best to arrive on time at her party.

And then next Friday would be the bestfriend’s birthday party. We have had our plans laid out ever since semestral break (that’s the time we ate at Marciano’s) and we hired Bedspace for the venue. Last week, my org planned the reporting process of the new applicants and said that the applicant’s finals would be next Friday. Goddamit, of all Fridays in the world.

Well I promised the bestfriend I’d be there at her party no matter what.

Oh crap, I’m running late for my ten o-clock class. Have to go.