I tried shampooing the carpet today. Not that I think I can salvage it and spare my housing deposit, but I don't think it's healthy to keep breathing mildew. I guess it smells a bit nicer now, and the splotches have changed color. There's really nothing that can make that particular shade of carpet look worse, really. This might even be an improvement. I am so tired of damp socks and squishy wall-to-wall carpeting. At home I have ugly tile floors that I don't care about, and I can use a mop or towel on them, problem solved. Gasp! Did I just reveal a scrap of information about my private life that people can use to track me down? How many college girls in Florida have tile floors? Quick, to the Brotherhood of Evil Real Estate Agents!
Sometimes you just have to mock these things, or you wind up driving yourself crazy. There's only so much second-guessing I'm going to do. I have tile floors. Alert the press. Whatever.
Gotta get some sleep now, or I won't wake up on schedule tomorrow. I've set my own deadlines for my finals, and I am a harsh mistress. I'm waking up early to get the maximum amount of library time (yes the library's open on Sunday, but not for long), because I seriously want to get this done early and then slack off and lounge around the common room in my pajamas and play video games while Dani frantically flips through her chem notes and chants the names of molecules or whatever.
Yeah, I'm a jerk.
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