You're the caboose to my train of thought

I'm exhausted and I don't know if I'm just not recovered from the four hours of skating at the all night party yet or if I'm just tired from working 35 hours last week.

And I'm quite upset that 35 hours doesn't count as full-time, not because I need benefits or anything but because every time I pick up my phone I find myself answering"Fitness Center this is Sammy how can I help you?" And I think that's important.

When I was introducing myself to my roommate via email I had to pause and ask myself what I wanted my name to be in college. Because anyone named Morgan can call me Sammy, and anyone named Mary can call me Samantha so what would people in college think about Sam? 

But I don't know how my name will sound in college, so I just went with Sam, because it's only one syllable and I like that.

I imagine this whole "roommate" thing is probably what an arranged marriage feels like. I wonder if girls get their future husbands name in an email. And I'm wondering if maybe they stalk those men via social network.

I wonder if my future roommate has stalked me. And I'm now sort of regretting  all the pictures I've posted of myself eating food. 

But only a little bit because like me eating a hot dog at work while telling people to have a good workout was so ironic and irony is my favorite.

Speaking of irony, I feel like compared to all of you I am so immature (I definitely googled how to spell "caboose"). But all the pictures on instagram and twitter of you kids in washing machines today have got me questioning that. 

Mostly because I've been doing my own laundry since sophomore year, so to all of you I say: good luck in college, I hope you've learned to separate your whites from your red socks.