Ants in my pants

Today after my lab final I planted myself on one of my favorite benches and made a feeble attempt at studying. But you know what? I barely made it through three pages of notes. For one thing, this poor little thing on the bench across from me was sobbing bitterly. I offered to fetch her some Kleenex, but she declined. So I went to the coffee stand and bought a frozen coffee beverage for myself and an enormous cookie for her. I thought I could at least give her something delicious to occupy her mouth with, thereby, I figured, making it difficult for her to cry for at least a little while. She wasn't there when I emerged from the library, however, so I tucked the cookie into my backpack in case I see her again (or until I break down and eat the thing myself). What's the right thing to do when you see a person grieving in public? On the one hand you don't want to intrude, but on the other hand, she's CRYING, for God's sake.

So then I found another favorite bench and brought out the notebook again. Nope, it just wasn't going to happen. I stared at the page for a little while and then found myself lost in thoughts -- good thoughts. Today was beautiful, in more ways than one. How could I possibly steer my mind toward academic matters? So I just sat there, basking in imagination and soaking up the sunshine. Eventually the ants started to get to me, though, so I reluctantly left my seat. I had to get to a hair appointment anyway. Sigh.

Michael Bolton has retreated (thank you, Person). Now I've got a medley playing in my head: three songs by Buddy Holly, the Cranberries and Sixpence None the Richer (these musicians aren't necessarily representative of my taste in music, by the way). If you can guess what songs they are, I may tell you a secret.