I left George's place a little late on Monday. There was a bit of rain, and the buses were late, so I had to run a bit when I got to campus. I had to borrow George's clothes because I knew I wouldn't be able to head to my residence building first without missing my first class. I probably looked stupid in his slightly big clothes — a worn out sweater that had hands that were too big for me, so I made sweater mittens and his 'skinny' jeans that were baggy on me. I looked stupid, but I felt nice wearing them. I was wearing George's clothes — I was wearing my boyfriend's clothes. Knowing me, it was a fact that my face was a bright red tomato throughout the day. My mood was great, and I was a lot friendlier even though I started my school day with my lecturer making a fuzz about be being late.
