Chubby Hubby
Chrys sat cross-legged on the floor, eating Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby straight out of the carton. Her olive drab canvas army bag sat in front of her, a temporary desk for her laptop. Her new apartment, located fairly close to San Jose State, where she would be a graduate student, was completely bare. Her furniture sat in the middle of the living room and bedroom, as if it were afraid of the unfamiliar eggshell walls.
She flipped open her laptop and pushed the power button, licking her lips for stray ice cream spots. Her arms were sore, and her brain was frazzled after the tough day. Jo had gone to a party closer to the university, still full of energy and enthusiasm after carrying a couch up two flights of stairs. Chrys connected to the internet and opened, once again, her class schedule for the following week.
“Good evening, Chrysanthemum Walker.” the student web service flashed cheerily. It informed her that she had class at 8 AM on Monday. Damn.
No amount of wishing was making the time change.