Pajama Club Meeting: First floor lobby, Tuesday after classes

[dirtiest-skank.livejournal.com]

Olive's pants and baby blue tank top were a lot more whimsical than she necessarily felt today, between the weekend and then dealing with stuff with Jim last night, not to mention her inner battle of stupid earlier (which, spoiler: she had been a total chicken and stupid had won and she'd slunk back to the dorms with her coffee and Trix without purposely going to see anyone. Because she sucked.)

But it was pajama club, dammit. She would put on a whimsical face for them. Plus, it'd probably help her mood, some. So the TV had cartoons on it -- not the crappy ones they showed nowadays, but the good Looney Tunes stuff she remembered being on TV sometimes when she was a kid. And there was cereal. And blankets. Let's all just make a cuddle fort, okay?

"Does anyone have any trauma to share from the weekend?" Olive asked, over her bowl of cereal. "Because I don't feel like sharing my trauma but maybe someone has a better story. Also I don't have trauma so much as irritation and relief people are gone, but I figured that 'trauma' makes for a better reason to lie around in our pajamas, am I right?"