text: [Themes: Slice of life, Romance, Collegiate, anxiety, sexuality choice, humor, gender choice, slice of life, procrastination]
  
  > look around
  I'm surprised you don't have any pictures from home up, but I can be especially sentimental since home for me involves crossing both the equator and International Date Line.
  
  You've a great big desk in front of a window, a resplendent yellow chair, a cabinet in one corner, a giant cactus in another, and a tall bookcase on the back wall with an incredibly cute stool. The door is west.
  
  On the desk are some pitiful little plastic shards, a photograph, your computer, my itinerary and a pile you cannot even contemplate. The bookcase holds a book. A wastebasket is on the floor.
  
  > look at the shards
  The red and black plastic shards were once part of a frame I lovingly made for you, and before that they were part of a poster from the concert we attended on our first date. Now they are useless.
  
  > tie the thread to the key
  In Melbourne we had to be able to tie ten different kinds of knots in order to graduate from secondary school. I'm not sure what would be accomplished by trying to tie the thread to the shiny little key, though.
  
  Warren is playing "Can Jimmy Do This?," which one music critic called "the most ambitious guitar solo ever by someone who had been playing the instrument for less than a week."
  
  > examine the itinerary
  A printout of an airline receipt for a certain Ms. Violet C., for a flight from Madison to Chicago to Los Angeles to Auckland to Melbourne. One-way, refundable. Departing early tomorrow morning.
  
  > read the notebook
  This page has two drawings of your advisor. On the left she looks enthusiastic; on the right, worried and disappointed. The speech balloon on the left says "Think big! I've never had a student with so much potential!" The balloon on the right says, "THE BEST DISSERTATION IS A DONE DISSERTATION."
  
  Your advisor is nutty anyway. I'm still angry about the time she made you catsit.
  
  > put the key under the door
  You slide the key under the door. It feels good to be rid of it.
  
  A few moments later you hear a noise and look down to see the key skidding back under your door.
  
  > take key
  Yours, rockmelon.
  
  Warren is playing "An Inch Too Tall" from Not Exactly Fair To Them, recorded during the extended tour that followed Listen.
  
  > Break key
  It's a spunky little key. You can't break it.
  
  > Contemplate pile
  You can't without becoming a puddle. This is what I'm saying.
  
  > examine computer
  The PC is old but fine. Applications include a word processor, browser, chat, and e-mail.
  
  Your computer is disconnected from the Internet.
  
  > move the bookcase
  It's bolted to the wall.
  
  You look up. "Colin would never--" ENOUGH. Colin has no relevance to this whatsoever.
  
  > examine the desk
  It's an excellent desk, even if someone did keel over on it. On top are some pitiful little plastic shards, a photograph, your computer, my itinerary and a pile you cannot even contemplate.
  
  The desk's drawer is empty. A wastebasket is on the floor to the left.
  
  > take the drawer
  That seems to be a part of your desk.
  
  > take shards
  Yours, marble munch.
  
  Warren is playing "Hedge Clippers" from This Is What You Drove Me To, Mrs. Kinkle-Catkicker.
  
  > Chew gum
  No way are you putting that back in your mouth.
  
  > examine the gum
  It's a slightly wet pink blob with little specks of brown.
  
  > put the gum on key
  Unfortunately, the gum's not that sticky. You'd just peel it off again.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You're carrying some pitiful little plastic shards, a shiny little key, a pink sticky blob of bubble gum, a deftly-crafted snowglobe, a rubber square, a small chip, a bit of lilac thread, a lighter, an empty plastic bottle and a notebook, and you're wearing the platyPod.
  
  You also have a binder clip on your nose.
  
  Warren is playing "Bagel Slicer," in which his playing is spirited but clearly far below his usual skills.
  
  > open the snowglobe
  Of course you can't open the snowglobe. I sealed it with industrial glue.
  
  > look at platyPod
  Presumably it looks like a three-legged space creature is attacking your head. Comfy, though.
  
  > examine lighter
  The lighter is promoting some race car driver whose car is #67. Our Number.
  
  I was tipsy at a party and you were one of four random dudes trying to talk to me at once. I interrupted to tell my favourite joke. "Why is six afraid of seven?"
  "Because seven eight--"
  "No!" I shouted, "Because seven [the sickest thing I could come up with at the moment] nine."
  
  The other men chuckled uncomfortably. You laughed so hard you spit Guinness on my face. That was when I decided I liked you.
  
  > open the lighter
  That's not something you can open.
  
  Warren is playing "Teeth," in which obviously substandard musicianship is accompanied by complaints about the difficulty playing with only one finger.
  
  > examine the cabinet
  It's University Drab, about a metre high with a silly fake wood front. It's closed and locked.
  
  > open the door
  You are going to open the door while your ex-girlfriend is hooking up with someone right across the hall? And then what? Do you really think that whatever happens is going to be something where you'll be able to write afterwards? You need to stay here and focus.
  
  > turn off the light
  Done. The room is much dimmer, with most of the light coming from the computer.
  
  You pause for a moment. Your shoulders slump. You say "Colin--," then stop. You're thinking about the pen again, aren't you?