Sex.

Today the man who made my hallway smell like vagina for the last week and a half has been replaced by a bunch of incense-burning hippies. This is a huge, happy development in my life.

I've only been back here a month, but I can already tell that when I'm 45 and my liver is slowly rotting away in my rib cage due to poet-induced alcoholism, this is the year I'll mean when I talk about being young and in my prime.