The room is quiet. The computers hum, there are huge problems and integrals on the whiteboards. No one else is here. There's a red, blank book in my bag. Nothing wrong with impulse purchases. Or maybe not impulse...maybe an urge to fill it with SOMETHING. There's always something. She should be here soon, but I don't mind waiting. I could stay here and listen to this song forever. No other noise, no other movement...there is no other world outside of this place, for now. Enter random graduate student, using printer. Exit random graduate student with printed papers. Enter random coughing fit. Exit. Re-enter internal monologue. Lasers don't matter here. Nothing does, really. This is my job, my laborless, loveless work, and it is nice. It's peaceful, it's a well of silence and calm that I haven't quite tapped into yet. A small reserve. Something for a rainy day, or a good moment. My good moments always continue here.