Protip: don’t make any herbal brownies in your suite kitchen. It’ll reek for weeks.

Continuing our welcome of the Early Decision admits to the Class of 2018, Bwog presents Saturday Daily Editor Britt Fossum’s typical Saturday. 

8:30 am: Woken up by Skype noises coming from an open computer. It was left open because I fell asleep fully dressed at 9 PM the night before waiting for a friend to get back to me on plans. So much for Friday.

8:31 am: It’s my mom, and I’ve avoided her calls all week, so I answer after getting rid of smeared eye makeup and slept-in contacts.

8:45 am: Still Skyping. Luckily it’s pretty one-sided so I can just nod along to hide how sleep-addled my brain still is.

9:11 am: Finally got off Skype with the excuse that I need to make coffee. But I’m all out. Of course.

10:30 am: Instead of getting dressed/showering/turning into a regular human being before going down to Oren’s, spend an hour thinking about doing so and deciding to head out in slept-in jeans.

10:40 am: Waiting in line and wondering why there has to be a line on a Saturday. When I get to the counter realize I might as well just buy a coffee now.

10:45 am: Go to McBain in the hopes of running into a friend and convincing them to do something. Security guard welcomes me back and I spend the entire elevator ride to the 8^th floor debating whether he was just being nice or if it was some commentary on my unkempt appearance.

12:00 pm: No one was awake so I chilled in the lounge and wasted a half an hour on my phone reading news and “news” on Twitter. Finally get bored/finish my coffee so I knock down a friend’s door.

12:03 pm: At least they opened the door this time.

12:04 pm: Of course by now I’d feel bad about leaving the Columbia bubble and not doing any work so we decide to parallel play on CC reading for a bit. But because we’re in the same class it devolves into a commentary on our classmates.

3:37 pm: Goddammit we really did waste an afternoon doing absolutely nothing right? Decide to buckle down and actually start read these great philosophers instead of cracking jokes.

4:10 pm: Oh god. A text from the significant other. To go out on a “double date.” At Deluxe. At least he apologized for the short notice/lameness of this invite and at least I don’t have to take any form of public transit. My earlier ambition to get out into the city is long gone.

4:12 pm: Say yes because I know half of the other couple and he’s a pretty cool guy.

4:13 pm: Realize I’m hungry and should probably get food—both because it’s a little past lunchtime and because I don’t have the fondest memories of Deluxe’s food. Go to Milano for about the billionth time this week and bring it back to Wallach so I can put on a pair of shoes without holes in the bottom.

6:30 pm: Lament the lack of work I’ve done today and the amount of food I managed to eat AND how I’m late for the date.

6:50 pm: Meet up with the other three people. Girlfriend seems nice. This could be fun.

7:30 pm: Somehow managed to get a table quickly and everything, small talk isn’t too awkward. Although I am not sure why they insist on playing with the candles—it makes me feel comparatively mature.

7:59 pm: This is starting to drag. The food is gone. The check is not coming. Then the girlfriend of the mutual friend pulls something out of her purse. A whiff of chocolate. Brownies? I start to say how smart that is, bringing dessert, and then I have a sudden realization. They furtively chow down and then kind of stare at me as if daring me to say something. Boyfriend elbows me and helpfully adds, “they’re pot brownies” as if I hadn’t already guessed.

8:20 pm: Finally get the check and mutual friend’s girlfriend is midway through telling one of those typical camp scary stories while insisting that it actually happened to a friend of hers. I decide to pay in cash so that we can get the hell out of dodge but no one else seems to have any. Shucks.

8:31 pm: We head our separate ways as the other two people are headed to a concert down in Brooklyn. I suddenly feel very maternal: they are only freshmen and have no iPhones to guide them. He insists that he knows how to sail and thus knows how to navigate the subway.

8:50 pm: I RSVPed on Facebook to this poetry/concert thing so I tell boyfriend I’ll hang out with him later.

9:51 pm: Leave the event and head back to my room. Fall asleep fully dressed again, but this time wearing shoes.

Bwog’s favorite dessert via Wikimedia Commons.