Well, all of my suite mates have moved in, bringing our apartment up to five total. We should have six, but my roommate, well, 'caught' cancer and had to leave. Thankfully, he will be quite alright, as it was caught early and will be neutralized with a regimen of chemotherapy. This, however leaves me with an empty room, and idea once relished because it was unattainable, but now reviled. Granted, a lot of our talk in the beginning of our getting to know one another was the usual white noise that accompanies any new friendship, but it was a white noise that helped. It also, I believe, had the potential of evolving into much more lengthly and insightful conversations, but I suppose that is irrelevant now.

His presence also served, in some small part, to the maintaining of my self-discipline in measures such as keeping the room clean. But with this bulwark removed, I can already feel that creeping laziness returning. This uncleanliness is usually the harbinger of troubled psychological waters. If I cannot even keep my room clean, my illogical hormonal alias tells me, then what is to say I can keep anything organized. Perhaps tomorrow I will clean. No, I will.

This spurt of angst is propagated more or less entirely by three phone calls I received that a lesser man would say were a portent of some sort. Despite their coincidence, however, they affected me. The first was with my girlfriend, the second from one of my college roommates, and the third from my mother. To be frank, I miss them all dearly. All I want to do is speak with them all again, in our apartment. I've been reading Walden lately, as you may have gathered. The strange thing is, I don't necessarily want someone to discuss the book in-depth with, thought that would be welcome. Rather, I want for the ability to slip little references from it into my day to day speech and have them recognized. All of my conversation here is still in it's infancy, still somewhat stilted and formal. I know everyone here, but I don't know anyone, and despite their policy of throwing open their arms to me, for which I am exceedingly grateful, I cannot yet say if I will.