The Day That Never Ended

I just spent my entire day at school. I really don't know how it happened. Fourteen hours. I just counted it out on my hands four times, so it's true.
Somehow I managed to wake up early this morning and haul my lazy ass to chapel. I sat in the cramped, humid balcony of the gym in awe of the mass of people who willingly put themselves in this situation weekly. I was feeling very uncomfortable and slightly bloated. I found release during worship when I spotted my favorite energetic evangelical dancing her awkward heart out on the shiny wood floor with eyes closed and hands raised beneath the bright white basketball net. The message was on diversity, something us white, upper middle class Biola students know a whole lot about. Compelling, though it was, I spent most of my time enamored with the incredible penmanship of the girl taking notes next to me in a fancy leather journal. I swear, she was born to write in cursive. I then scorned myself for coveting her nimble, dexterous fingers during sermon.
I ended up in the computer lab after chapel let out. I worked until my roommate came and then stayed out of kindness and need for human interaction. What a sucker I am. After a long trip for coffee we had to relocate ourselves to the asian corner of the computer lab behind creepy guy who stares at you just a little too long when you walk by.
At this point I had endured a near full school day and yet had not attended one class. In fact it hadn't yet begun, really. And that is where this story ends.