saturday january 3

today i was home alone for the second straight day. though i knew that one roommate was in new york for the weekend, i only had a vague idea, a hypotheseis really, about where the other one was. the boredom, sickness, and solitude finally got to me in one paranoid moment in the evening, when i became convinced that this second roommate had actually passed out and died in her room; i was sure that i just hadn't noticed, having not even knocked on her door at all to see if she was in there, that i'd lived in the house for over 24 hours with this dead body as if nothing was wrong, and that i'd be forced to live with my inaction and guilt forever. i immediately went to her room and confirmed that it was empty and that i was, in fact, crazy, but it was a pretty terrifying 20 seconds.