Irony: The PAD—a.k.a. "Pizza at Drake"—is out of pizza. This isn't even the first time. I almost want to suggest they change their name to FAD—"Food at Drake." I find it much more fitting not only in its new generic sense but also in its inherent labeling of what the PAD is at its heart: a fad.

It's true. The PAD tries to make itself the hip place to eat, with its modern logo of an overly sexified woman lounging in a moon chair and the '70s chains hanging from the ceiling. It's a fad that you'll love for the first week and then regard as the essence of mediocre pizza for the rest of your college career.

What can I say? It's nearing 6 a.m. and for the past two hours I've been integrating functions and reading about economics. I guess I'm just waiting for the RPAC café to open so I can get some coffee and a bagel. I'm a night person; I love to be awake when no one else is. I'm also my most productive at night, when there are no distractions and nothing else to do. And no, sleep is not something else to do. If it were, I'd be doing it.