A Sore Subject

If you're walking up to Birchwood 7, you're likely to find a pool of rum and maybe a few bits of broken glass that I neglected to see last night when I tried to clean up my mess. I was walking home with my handle of bacardi and 3 bottles of champagne in Jess' backpack when, right as I was about to reach the stairs and almost be home, the rum flew out of the bag and collapsed onto the sidewalk. I was SO CLOSE and I am literally devastated. I can not believe that, of all things that could happen, this did. Now I have no rum for Renn Fayre. I don't want to be sad for thesis parade so I'm going to pretend that everything's fine, and if you read this please don't bring up the rum so that I can bask in my full denial. Let's just say it's a sore subject.