A Day in the life of Sam Bowman

Ahhhh. Coffee. Some say it's tough to warm my heart. But that is because they've never been around me at 7:15 a.m. M-F. A nice warm cup to get me nice and ready for the commute to Roanoke. This Summer I've been working for a research lab. Studying the Blackfan Virus. Highly Dangerous. Just like me. I leave the house and go to campus to get on the commuter bus that drives out to Roanoke daily. Saves me gas, and I get to watch an episode of Dexter. I finish up Season 3, just as the bus pulls into my stop. I walk into the building, put on my lab coat, and quickly get to work. Measuring, diluting, spinning, weighing, experimenting. You name it, and I probably do it around this place. Some call me a scientist. I call me a magician. I can do things with beakers you can't even imagine.

I get home from work around four and go read The Hunger Games on the front porch of the Willard Home. I enjoy these books immensely. What is in District 13?

After an hour of that it's time to fire up the grill. I take out some fresh meat, still bloody from where I shot and killed it, and cook it. Then I eat it. Without a fork. Cause I'm a man.

After dinner I hang with Norty and Kyle a bit. Joe's studying or lifting weights, and who knows where Jason is. But I content myself with lively conversation with my two buds. Kyle is from Texas. He works with grass. Norton is an engineer. He works with plastics. They're his specialty.

I get on the phone for a bit with Eliza. She talks to me, saying that she's pissed James hasn't written a blog about me, as I am easily the most entertaining and easiest person in the house to write about. I calm her down from her fury and tell her that I am probably the hardest to write about, A. Because I have no really weird qualities besides not showering for James to parody, and B. because although James would love to just fill the entire day of my life with pun references, he's not very good with them. I guess he's just not very punny.

I lay down in my basement/lair bed and curl up under an old, soft quilt I stole from one of my roommmates. I ponder things aloud for a bit with Joe, our nightly pillow talk. Then as my eyelids begin to close, I think of one more pun to say. I try to open my mouth to say it, but dreams of science and manliness whisk it away....