I’m at Cafe Ruba and I’m waiting for Lindsay, Jon, and Juliet to join me.

Lindsay and Jon should have gotten out of class about an hour ago. Juliet just called from work (she should have been off a few minutes ago) to ask if I knew where they were, since they were actually supposed to meet her at work and come here with her after she finished. Of course, I don’t know where they are. I’m sitting here waiting for them.

And just my luck I wore a short-sleeved shirt and it’s breezy. I should have ordered a larger drink to keep me warm longer. My bad.

Meanwhile, my battery is at twenty-three percent, so it won’t last much longer. Especially if I keep typing at this furious pace. (For your information, this “furious pace” mostly consists of hitting the backspace key since I make so many mistakes when I type quickly.)

I’m cold, I’ve finished my drink, my friends aren’t here, and my laptop is quickly dying. Remind me to have two things in my car at all times from now on: a pad of paper and a sweatshirt. Batteries only last two hours (with “normal” usage, which I’m pretty sure doesn’t involve running any applications), but a pad of paper lasts at least two and a half.

Shit… twenty percent. When it gets to ten, loud sirens and flashing red lights go off and the computer forces me to stop working. It’s anal like that. It really likes to save the last ten percent for its own selfish needs, like finding pictures of naked peripherals on the internet.

It’s late. They’re not here. What the heck could they possibly be doing? Don’t answer that. I know what they could possibly be doing. But dammit, they’re not supposed to be polishing chairs, they’re supposed to be meeting me for coffee.

Juliet just called and told me they’ve arrived at her work. They’ll be here in five minutes. Thank goodness, since my battery is at eighteen percent, so it prob’ly won’t last any longer than that. Heck, maybe I should shut it now so it can check out that new PCMCIA S&M site.