I don't want to leave E2.
I don't want to leave the library, go down the Basser Steps, and meet my parents in front of NIDA. I don't want them to see the play I wrote in a night and directed in a week. I don't want them to see the plays of my friends, or tell me its inappropriate but laugh at the jokes. I don't want Dad to impress my actors with his stories at NIDA and then leave with a wink, telling me to have a good time at the pub.

I don't want to go to the pub. I don't want to drink. My actors deserve the round i'll shout them, but I don't want to toast them. I don't want to put And She Was on the video jukebox in honor of the Talking Heads reference in my play. I don't want to try chatting up one of my friends. I don't want to try and fail to have a normal conversation with the cute indie girl techie. I don't want to navigate people I don't know to take a piss. I don't want to smile.

I want to go home, put on Elvis Costello, sob, and sleep. Tommorow I'll wake up and pretend I'm the main character in my play, confident and stupid and in love with music. Tommorow I'll go to work and serve beer and go to an RPG con and have fun. Not tonight. I don't want to have fun tonight.

My parents just called. Its time to go.

I think I almost had a weakness