Take last Saturday for instance.
7:00 AM: "Yay, Clark gets home today!"
3:45 PM: "Hmm, Clark should be almost back by now. Did he say he'd be back by four?... yes, he did. I'm positive."
4:01 PM: "Am I sure it was four?... yes. It was four. Well, I'll give it like, twenty nine more minutes. That way if things are late, or if his phone is dead, or if they have to clean-up/un-pack, it'll leave time for that."
4:15 PM: sends text :: Are you alive?::
5:03 PM: paces throughout the apartment. Sara calls. "Hey, you still wanna get together tonight?" ... "Yes, I do. I'm going crazy in this apartment all alone."
5:35 PM: "Well, I remember him saying he'd definitely be home by six. Maybe the bus is late or something. Maybe they got a late start. There's no reason to assume anything is wrong."
5:37 PM: "But what if something is wrong?"
6:01 PM: "Well, if he was back by six, maybe he quickly went over to the meeting-- that should be over by eight. I'll wait until eight to thoroughly freak out."
6:25: "Why isn't it eight yet?"
8:15: Calls Clark's phone. Goes to voicemail.
8:25: Calls Clark's phone. Rings and then goes to voicemail.
8:27: Calls Clark's roommates phone. "Is he home?"... "Yes, he is."... "He's home and didn't tell me?!?" (feelings of injustice and sheepishness simultaneously ensue). "Please slap him for me."
Roommate complies.
8:43: "I feel awful about freaking out! Why do I always freak out?" Calls Clark. "I'm sorry! I was just worried."
9:32: Clark arrives on doorstep with flowers, kettle-corn and a movie.
And you wonder why I missed him?
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