"'You know,' said Doug, 'I get up at 2:30, take a shower until three, then sit in front of the fan in my room for an hour. .

Doug reads a lot. He can't do the reading for his courses-he is never up in time to go to a class to get a reading list-but there is other stuff to read. Someone will leave a book on the coffee table, and, if it stays there long enough, Doug will eventually pick it up and read it. Last week he read a sci-fi novel, Thomas Berger's Little Big Man, a collection of Donald Barthelme short stories and a cookbook.

"That cookbook made me hungry," he said.

IT WASN'T always this way. Doug came to Harvard like most other people-the pride of his large public high school, semi-athletic, a go-getter, eager fall. It has a shot-by-shot analysis of Z as its feature story, and Doug takes a look at it nearly every day.

"It pretty much fills up the afternoon," he said. "You know, I get up at 2:30. take a shower until three, then sit in front of the fan in my room for an hour. . ."

"What?"

"You know, to get my hair dry. I've got to be careful; I'm going bald, I think. Anyway, then I read a little about Z-and then it's dinner. Hey, what time is it? I think it's dinnertime now. . ."

The door opened and Ted, a roommate, came in. "Doug, man," he said. "How about some dinner?"