Undergradarific

Ah, the undergraduate life... how I miss it. Err, well sometimes, I guess. I was able to experience the tiniest snippets of the good life yesterday, which I suppose is all one would want beyond a certain point. First and foremost, I worked from home. I was home all day. I worked in my sweatpants. I worked at my kitchen table. I worked with good coffee at my side. Hmmmm, methinks we should divorce the concepts of work and good coffee from the stereotypical undergraduate life. I digress. In the evening, I consumed mass quantities of pizza washed down with a few good beers with R!. It was, from any formulation of a good undergad experience, undergradarific. But the icing on the cake, the show stopper of the evening, the confirmation of oh-so-many stereotypes in one fell swoop came from a table across the way. There on the far side of the restaurant sat a table of wee sorority girls. A whole passel of them. Just as I looked over the waitress delivered their food. She carried approximately 8-10 salads on her tray. I saw no pizza. Salads in pizza joints, not against the rules. But an entire table full of salads with nary a slice in sight... Ay dios mio. Let us be grateful it was just the tiniest of snippets into that world.