A Man Stopped Me on the Street

> “PRETTY” <

Thursday is my favorite day of the week. Wednesday is a close second this semester because I don’t have any classes. Usually I just sleep in, buy an overpriced latte from a nearby cafe, perhaps see a new movie, and tackle some reading.

Today, I planned to do exactly that. My Introduction to Irish History final, which I took the night before, didn’t go as well as I hoped it would (HOW CAN THE TEST NOT COVER THE POTATO FAMINE WHEN THAT WAS WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT 60% OF THE TIME?!), so I was in dire need of a stress-free day.

I left the house at high noon to search for a black dress to wear at Friday night’s choral concert along with a new pair of black tights. The sky was still gray from the morning’s rain, so I wore my trusty Hunter boots and rain coat in case┬ásuch weather would return. I didn’t brush my hair, wear any make up, or notice the coffee stain on my khakis. But still, a man stopped me on the street.

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