Pop a tape into the VCR so I can watch Dawson's Creek when I get home.
Stare at the closet for awhile. Then dig through the dirty clothes, put on an old pair of jeans worn out just in the right spots. Slip on my Pavement t-shirt 'cause I'm in a fighting mood. Wait a minute. Take off the Pavement shirt, remove my bra, put my Pavement shirt back on 'cause I'm really in a fighting mood. White socks and the good ol' Converse standbys.
Take the pot and slip it in my purse. No wait, maybe I should smoke some first. No, I'll never get there if I do. Open my dresser. Close it. Open it, take out a condom, stick it in my purse. God, I hate Eric.
Throw on my coat, check for cigarettes -- there they are -- start to head out. No, wait, I'm forgetting something. What am I forgetting? Oh yeah. Go into the bathroom, stick my finger down my throat, throw up dinner. Flush.