The One Where I Realize I’m Monica

Sunday afternoon, I decided I needed to change my sheets. It wasn’t for any particularly major reason, only because I have this really weird habit- I have to shower before bed. On Saturday, I came back to my room far too tired to shower, thus getting straight into bed, and becoming slightly abhorred in the morning when I realized what I’d done. Dramatic? Yes. But I changed my sheets anyway.

As I went to do so, I first put on my comforter the wrong way. How did I know? Well, I thought to myself, “the tag has to go in the bottom left corner.” As this thought popped into my mind, and I completed (in my very precise way) making my bed, I thought of one person- Monica Geller.

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Sole Searching

After a long night out last weekend, I came back to my Vanderbilt dorm room, turned the lights on, and sat down to take off my shoes.

Even in a late-night daze, I could tell that my white and green Stan Smiths were far dirtier, and looked far older than they had just hours before. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I made the Freshman mistake of wearing nice shoes out to a bar– I hadn’t. These Stans were two+ years old, and had long surpassed their days of being crisp, clean, and pure white. I knew my shoes would get trashed, and I actually intended for this to be the case.

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