I have a bad habit of promising my presence at social gatherings when my presence should probably be caste in loneliness in front of a computer screen hashing out my thesis on Self Reliance.

This next gathering however is easily justified despite the portfolio due tomorrow. A good friend of mine has been frantically painting for the last week, pausing momentarily only to dip cookies in milk and talk to his mentor at the tap house. So he’s been busting his ass, and I cannot in good consciousness tell him, “Your art show sounds fascinating, but I have (cough) really important stuff going on. Stuff that rhymes with dinals and involves my GPA, aka “The Decider.” So, just, you know, put on another one sometime and I’ll be sure to show.”

THE PROBLEM lies in my timetable. If the timetable was a can of 7up, it would self-combust. I’ve resigned to staying up all night.

Praise be to his noodly appendage for landing me a job in a coffee house where caffeine is readily abundant.

(Must admit that I have surpassed a healthy tolerance level for espresso. I’ve taken to just snacking on the beans straight, and sometimes I sneak the left-over grinds in the back room, line them up on a bar stool and snort them.)

I hope to see you in the morning.