She wrote an e-mail to her professor at around 10 or 11 pm explaining that a rather complicated macroscopic demonstration of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle had prohibited her from spending as much time on her thesis as studious integrity ordinarily compelled... by 3 am it was safe to say her underwear was flying high somewhere beneath the eastern heavens on a flagpole beside the law building while her wallet was filled with the reminders of money she'd spent that hadn't belonged to her... In her room at 5:47 am, concerned about the eventualities of the evening, our protagonist opened a fortune cookie, longing as alcoholics will for some form of carbohydrate and sugar at such an hour, and it said thus: It could be better, but it’s good enough.