Day 11 was a Friday. Somehow the thought of going out was actually repugnant to me.

“Check you guys later,” I said to my roommates, “I’m bringing this bottle of wine, this fancy paper, and these books to the laundromat, and I am cleaning some clothes.”

“Uhhh, where do you think you are?” they said to me. “Sheesh, you’ll be arrested. Here. Pour that in a Nalgene. There . . . now that’s a great idea.”