Tuesday mornings are the worst. I start bright and early at 4 AM by going for a 13 mile run so that I have my morning skinny. Then I shower and shave my entire body from head to toe, so I look like a hairless cat (Joe had a hairless cat – more on this later).
After showering, I pick out an outfit that says something along the lines of “I spent 3 hours putting this together and tried on every single shirt in my closet just to choose a v-neck and sweatpants that make it look like I am casually cool and did not put effort into this natural beauty.” Then I use Hollywood grade prosthetics to mask my hideous face.
All this effort, and for what? Cute Joe won’t even look at me during our Zoology 101 discussion. He just stares at the TA and listens to what she has to say, as if he cares about the material or something. He’s constantly scribbling in his notebook, probably writing “Joe + TA forever.” I don’t know what else he could be writing.
Every once in a while the TA will bring up animal cancer and Joe will cry and talk about how his hairless cat died too young. Like, I know what you’re doing, Joe, and the TA won’t fall for your water works and pity fuck you. But I will. So look over here! At me!
Until he sees me, I will continue to make sex eyes at him and provocatively eat my breakfast of bananas and hot dogs. If anyone knows Joe, please let him know to look. But don’t tell him I’m interested, I’m trying to play it cool.