I'm alive...

I think. Thank you to all who sent good thoughts my way; I am definitely feeling better, whatever that nasty virusy-thing was. Today I'm playing catch up with my schoolwork, and then I gotta do a housing application for next year's dorm living. There's a dorm here called Risley Hall, and i reeeely wanna live there. It's full of artists and poets and musicians and thespians and rocky-horror groupies. Usually when you mention Risley to one of the mundanes on campus they will either make a face or laugh nervously, and then retell one of the tired rumors about strange goings-on late at night with the residents, some involving orgies and other kinds of fun. I say "bah" to the lot of them, Risley-ites are just misunderstood eccentrics and I'm sure I would fit right in, if only they'll let me! Aye, there's the rub. They are not very welcoming to outsiders, it seems, and I've heard it's really hard to get in. So my application has to be wildly creative and impressive.
Oh, yeah, and it's due saturday. Crap. It's like someone coming up to you and going, "Do something funny right now." I'm at a loss. And the clock is ticking...