Let me paint you a picture.
The time? 9:47 pm, the Sunday before finals. The place? That dark, oppressive little cubicle in the corner of third floor Olin. You’ve had a long day and you have an even longer week ahead of you. You can feel your hunger starting to flare up (you ate dinner at 5:30 today so you could keep working uninterrupted through the evening, it was a good idea at the time). The difficult truth is that you’re getting peckish again and you can’t afford another trip to the market for snacks because you have to save your last dollars for those loads of laundry before moving out. The solution? Midnight breakfast.