Last night, waiting for friends.

There's a blog entry written on that - underneath some probability formulas. But I'm not sure if the entry is actually good enough to write and post here - but it was enough to keep me from feeling too lonely while I waited for my friends to get there. Waiting at a bar alone - only takes a few minutes to feel completely pathetic. You can go the "hide in the screen of my phone" route, which I don't like, or you can be brave and sit there, just be in that space. Nope. A bit too insecure for that. So instead, I scrambled in my bag, found a piece of a notecard (notes for GRE studying all over it) and a pen, and hoped that I looked artistic.

Why do we care so much what we think other people are thinking of us, when all that they're worrying about is what we think of them?