I was supposed to be doing some Her-level hipster shit in Catalina with my boyfriend this weekend, but he was shipped off to storyboard IBM ads at some midtown hotel in New York until who knows when.

Keely's on a flight to Minnesota, Sydney is in the throes of new love, and Stephanie is at a conference in DC. I'd ask my sorority sisters if they wanted to hang out, but most of them are gone too.

The guy at work who tells me he loves me - you remember him - is having a party tomorrow night. I'm considering showing up and causing some trouble, but we fought Tuesday night because he likes to gaze into my eyes and tell me I'm Special and he just wants me to Be Okay. I tell him that I am Okay when he leaves me alone. We will leave each other alone.

To be honest, I've never really cared about spring break. I've got a Coachella habit to fund and some parking tickets to pay off, and it's not as though I don't party and bullshit enough when school is in session. I just don't think I'm prepared for the extrovert's nightmare.

Here's a breakdown of how the next week will go:

• Take care of business
• File taxes
• Pay fines
• Take care of the apartment
• Buy paper towels
• Buy cat food
• Buy human food
• Let most of the human food go bad
• Order $35 of LA Cafe
• Throw out roommate's old food
• Eat what might still be good
• Go to work
• Ignore the boy
• Do your homework
• Write the fucking play
• Buy cigarettes
• Don't smoke them
• Talk to men
• Be mildly interested in them because they're cute
• Consider having sex with them
• Consider dating them
• Realize they're dumb and not that cute
• Do not have sex with them
• Do not text them back when they ask you out for dinner
• Think about your boyfriend
• Drink
• Call him
• Talk about Mad Men
• Talk about North Korea
• Talk about anything other than how much you love him
• Try to plan out your career
• Asses what skills you have
• Realize you have no skills
• Realize your degree has done nothing for you except made you aware of how awful the world is
• Figure out who might want to hire you
• Become entrenched in an endless spiral of job search websites
• Realize you're not good enough
• Feel a pressure build inside you
• Drive to the beach
• Scream into darkness
• Cry about all the nothing
• Grab a fistful of hair and pull
• Slap yourself in the face
• Not too hard
• Run into the ocean
• Baptize yourself
• Pray to all the nothing
• Drive home
• Do your homework
• Go to dance class
• Smile when your teacher asks how you are doing
• Smoke the cigarettes on the drive home
• Call your father
• Tell him you're fine