boredom is not an end-product

So I was going to enter this fiction contest on McSweeney's website but I've been too preoccupied with planning my thesis to finish it. This is part of what I have so far:

*
In a purple bedroom, the walls are covered with a patchwork of the kinds of posters you hang on your wall in high school. On top of a bed, skinny legs are tucked under torsos, and the girls are taking turns plunking strings and turning tuning keys. Lisa has already strummed through a cover of “Hey Jude” on her guitar and wants to help Regan figure out the bass line so they can play together. They’ve listened to the song three times so far, and Regan thinks she has the general idea of it already.

Lisa strums the chords in the perfunctory style of an amateur musician; she is not talented enough to play with flair and too reserved to want to know how. She watches how Regan’s face occasionally turns to her fingers on the bass guitar’s frets and wonders when Regan started learning the bass. They saw each other outside of school two months ago, each holding the cases of their respective instruments. They never really talked in middle school, but they warmed to each other quickly. Now they’re going to form a band.

Regan starts humming the chorus, but she is really thinking about how easily they could make it big. Since their first jam session, they’ve already written the chorus to an original song. And they’re almost good enough to play at the talent show the school has every month—most of those kids that perform just read their shitty poetry anyway. Regan and Lisa could definitely be the best act in that show. They could end up being one of those great songwriting pairs, like Paul McCartney and John Lennon, or Joe Strummer and Mick Jones. Their names even sounded well together: Lisa Morton and Regan Westick. Morton and Westick. Morton and Westick, the most influential female duo in music.
*

I dunno how I feel about it right now. I'll finish it someday.