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So I instituted movie night in the apartment with the roommates. And then I unwittingly afflicted them with a movie that has put us into an utter malaise that we may never come out of. Actually, Greg left the screening in protest, but Molly stuck it out with me. I appreciated her company only now we both feel trapped in an oozing angsty universe of mid-twenties malaise.
Like, even as I type this the tone of Funny Ha Ha is sucking away at my life. Which I guess is sort of the point, but like… I don’t even know…
/The failure of the above sentence is very reminiscent of almost every moment of dialogue. Maybe I just wasn’t in the appropriate mood.
Also, here’s something that I never knew, the Mud Coffee on 9th Street is secretly HUGE and goes all the way back and is completely lovely and involves a fairly expansive menu of real food and wine. Who knew? Not I said the Bumbler.
I recommend the mango, pico de gallo and Asiago cheese quesadilla. You read correctly, now make one. It’s divoon.
/Once I said “divoon” and Greg thought I was telling him the name of the woman who cut my hair. I wasn’t. It was confusing.