Monday
I wake up already depressed that it is Monday, a sad fact that is only made worse when I remember where I am. A twin room in a dank apartment, covered by a measly cover-less single duvet. It being my third year in college I know already that it could be Christmas before I pilfer another duvet cover from home. I promise myself to stop drinking tea in bed to keep it stain-free. My room-mate snores less than three feet away from me and I curse the recession that has me sharing a room. Nearly no masturbation opportunities now.
Tuesday
Couldn’t sleep last night and my plans to cheer myself up in the shower fall through when I feel how miserably weak the water pressure is here. Barely a tickle. My sense of female empowerment wanes as I think about how much I am craving cock. The words “craving cock” resonate around my head as I shampoo my hair. Does anyone actually say that? Did I really just say that? No, no, I don’t need a man. I just crave a comfortable bed and a properly pleasing shower head. I hum away under the dribble, trying not to think of my ex, who had both a memory foam mattress and a properly pleasing head.
Wednesday
Workman’s Club after pav. I get hammered and the memory is patchy, but between the five of us we hope we have it covered. Sarah and Brian scored. So did Séan and Brian by the looks of the photos. Lisa went off with a lad and has reported an excellent night was had. My brief score with a lad in an ironic Hawaiian shirt was overshadowed by my sexy chipper on the way home. Salt AND vinegar? Yes please.
Thursday
Wake up face-down on my pillow with a mouth like the Sahara. Sarah is sardined beside me. We physically have to peel our flesh apart to get out of bed. The cover-less duvet has been kicked to the ground. I bitch about the unsuccessful night and when the roommate tells me that she’s going home on Friday I vow to get my bit at last.
Friday
It’s Pav Friday and early on I spot a lad I fancied all of last year. I’m only talking to him a little while before I realise that he is a whole lot less cool than I had imagined. Almost dorky. This empowers me to invite him home with me and to my delight he agrees. We are at the skinny-jean unbuttoning stage when he reveals that he has no condoms. He makes up for this with some excellent manual action though and it’s only fair to return the favour. Mid-wank I remember the duvet and my vow to keep it clean, but I feel him tensing and it’s too late to put down a towel. To my luck he turns out to be a fist-dribbler so it’s grand. I get a tissue and suggest we get some chipper.
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