Three years later, I still find myself feeling a little ridiculous. My mind blamed my gut, the same gut that as a first-year responded do the loud yelling coming from the halls of Battell that had kept me from getting into bed.
The source of the noise was a member of my first-year seminar, but no more than an acquaintance. She was sporting a bright pink bikini, a ski helmet, goggles and the furriest boots I had seen since arriving at Midd as a first-year not more than two months before. It had already been a non-descript week night, the kind where Chinese homework, 5:00 dinner and astronomy lab all mesh together to form one long block of time capable of sufficiently making me exhausted to the point where it was not hard to want to pass out for a good week. So yes, it was my gut and not my common sense that responded to the voice instead of tuning it out.