Recap: Mike & Ike

Note to self: when management feels bad about something, they get you candy.

Also, I'd like to make another note that rice should not be cooked in ovens. Or at least, in whatever manner that they were being cooked generally in the ovens here. They were ROCK SOLID and first a guy, then me, had to use a METAL spatula (originally we had plastic, but the other guy decided that metal'll make the job easier) to chop at it. And stab it. And jab it. Repeatedly. The rice was dying twice. It wasn't so much trying to serve rice as waging a full-scaled war against it and trying to kill it. While attacking a particularly vicious lump Daniel (the cook there) mimicked the noise of a dying creature.
I wish. I never got that clump of rice to unclump so it had to go out there like that.
There it is now, probably still in a clump and causing indigestion somewhere.

Life here in the dorm has settled back into its usual (for I hesitate to use the term 'normal', especially as what might be considered 'normal' in one building might be considered 'insane' in another. Each building has their own theme, it seems) pattern. Meaning that our lounge is usually empty save one or two people or the occasional nighttime moments where people suddenly aggregate there (from nowhere, and VERY suddenly, it feels like). Meaning passing people in the hallway who you may or may not know and smiling at them anyway and have them smile back. Meaning academic jokes in the hallways and bleary-eyed floormates in the morning (or noon, in some cases). Meaning random thumping and screeches and laughter.
Yep, a quarter does not officially start until the second week.

[edit 16:26]
Greetings from fair Cupertino, and blessings on my father's continuous willingness to drive long distances.