So, all of last week I was just horribly sad.   I felt like an outcast in my own room, I felt ignored by everyone else (my roommates, too), and I thought Mike had just cut me out of his life for fun.

Last night, I got to talk to Mike, got up the balls to ask my roommates if I could move my dresser around (something I've been wanting to do since, November, and the response was, 'yeah, we didn't know why you kept it there after we moved Jess' around'), and just basically started breathing again.
It was  a goooooood thing.

And now, to be late to student teaching, and to pretend I'm not praying a certain someone who I haven't spoken to in 3 years is busy writing me an email/message back. Because I certainly haven't been hoping for that.  Nooope.