You know what takes a lot out of you? Seven hours of dry dusting, damp dusting, and pillow fetching. What’s more, I’m working at Cabot House in the quad, and living in the quad is sufficiently crappy that I feel obliged to at least provide a dust-free existence. Hence, harder work.
That said, Cambridge is pretty ill. Examples:
Felipe’s Taqueria. This is a stash house in the illegal manna trafficking industry. Or ambrosia-trafficking. Regardless, it’s godly, and I suspect I’ll be having more than enough of their fat-soaked quesadillas over the next four years.
When I was walking back to the Yard from Felipe’s, I overheard some busker singing at a corner. “I would have stayed in your bed / For the rest of my life, just to prove I was right.” Sounded familiar. Very familiar. “That it’s better to be friends than lovers, and you shouldn’t try to mix the two.” What was this? “Because if you do it and you’re still unhappy, then you know that the problem is you.” My God – I was listening to a street busker in Cambridge sing “Divorce Song” by Liz Phair. From Exile in Guyville. How great is that?