For a while, there was a sense of security in my life. I had landed both a well-paid summer job and a nice apartment to sublet until the start of fall semester. And then the sublet plans fell through. One of the residents decided to stay in the apartment during the summer, and my friend never told me this, so I had to hear through the grapevine that I had no place to live between May and August.

And then I discovered an apartment down the street from my school. It was a spacious one-bedroom flat, and the floorplan was such that converting the living room into a second bedroom wouldn't be a problem. And the rent! Boy, what a steal. Only $995 a month, all utilities included. Perfect! My friend and I handed in our applications and $250 security deposit the next day.

And then I get a phone call from the rental manager a day later. Someone had submitted an application a few hours after we were given a tour of the apartment. Unfortunately, she said, the apartment was no longer ours. After a few days of exhiliration (I have my own place! I can decorate it as I wish! I'll be able to smoke and drink and light candles! And it's right near campus!), I was back to square one.

And so this morning, I ventured out to more apartment buildings. And I hated them. They were gloomy and sad and too far from campus. No one would ever visit me. I'd be lonely. And I can't stand being lonely. I'd rather sign up for on-campus housing next fall and pray that I get a decent roommate.

And that is what I am going to do. At least I will be in the same building as all of my friends. And it's only for one semester. I can handle this. It's not so bad. And I've already found a place to sublet during the summer! Things could be worse. A lot worse.

And the sad thing is that it took three lines of Adderall for me to feel this way. The fact that I went from borderline manicdepressive to vacant contentment in four minutes is astonishing and unnerving. I would take a nap, but I'm so high on speed that I'll research my term paper for the next few hours. Amen for prescription drugs and those that are rapidly becoming dependant on them.