Responsible for occupying the table near the window. Order mochas three times a week, every week. Pretend to be okay with where all the time went.

It may not seem like a watershed moment for those of you reading this, but the pain I felt in my left foot's big toe was noteworthy during these twelve years.

Mastered the art of snacking on an extreme budget. Made thick cheese sandwiches in complete darkness on several occasions. Achieved elite status in being able to sleep soundly while housemates got ready for work.

Prepared bags of generic "happy feed" for the lawns of the wealthy. Developed lasting resentment for outdoor work and the wealthy.