Surviving

"I haven't heard from you in a while, so I called to see if you are lonely / starving. Part of me hopes you are. But, um, it's a small part."

At the exact moment I got Pelks' message, I was in fact alone in my apartment and mildly hungry. Luckily, I had Marlena's fabulous brownies and baked goods and the prospect of a visit from my Dad tomorrow. So there!

The train back from Connecticut was uneventful, but I was shocked to find an empty apartment. I was expecting to find Neil, who had taken an earlier train, but instead both he and his suitcases were gone. I immediately concluded he was dead or had decided he hated me and moved out, a view that persisted until I went into the bathroom and saw that his toiletries were still there.

Being the World's Greatest Detective, I deduced that he had gone home to do laundry in anticipation of his week-long trip to Texas on Sunday. At least, I can only hope that's what it is.

I wandered around Greenwich Village for two hours before remembering my plans to eat something substantial. Unfortunately, I was distracted by a comic book store before I could decide where to fill up.

Psychology's a funny thing. Due to my years of video games, my survival instincts are a series of bars above my immediate field of vision. (Think Scott Pilgrim, for those of you in the know.) They (often) depict the ratios "FOOD: xx/20", "THIRST: yy/30", "BLADDER: zz/30", "COMPANIONSHIP" (1 - 5 hearts), and "STIMULATED" which is always Y/N.

"STIMULATED" and "COMPANIONSHIP" always win. This is why I returned with a small burger in a belly and DC: New Frontier Vol 2. instead of filling up more substantially.

Currently, I am sitting alone in my apartment eating brownies, reading my comic book, and playing with my AC unit using my way-past cool remote control. What more could I ask for?