Saturday, January 06, 2007
Living Conditions
It is official.
I now have a roommate.
A friend from a near by village is in the process of transferring positions within the district. While things are being worked out he needs a place to live, in my town.
He will be staying with me.
On my couch.
Since he is actually moving, all his stuff, all his belongings ended up in my tiny apartment.
Box after box after box.
Hours of unpacking.
The upside.
For the first time since, well, since I lived with my mother my kitchen is stocked with food.
Every nook and cranny is stuffed to the max with, stuff.
The downside.
I am weird.
I have been living alone for far too long and am fairly set in my ways. I have places for things. I tend to live like in a hermit-like manner.
You can call me the cat lady, without the cats.
Or urine smell.
To but it mildly, I have quirks.
And now I have someone in my space. Someone with many things. Someone who likes to play video games and sit in my recliner.
My Recliner!
I am currently sitting on the couch, something my tushy is totally not accustomed to. I keep moving to recline and nothing happens! I have, more than once, foolishly reached down to pull the little foot-stool handle thingy finding nothing in my grasp.
My recliner!
You might be asking yourself, “Why don’t you just kick him out of your chair! Reclaim that piece of your mental health!”
It is something I have thought about.
Something I have contemplated.
Something I have dreams of doing.
But already I have enacted to many insane rules.
No shoes in the house.
No touching my 430 knives.*
No disturbing the sprouts.
And no cleaning talking about kittens on every other Tuesday.
Taking the chair back this early in the game would probably cause problems.
I will be forced to loosen up, become less of the aforementioned cat-lady.
It might even be healthy.
But, just in case, does anyone have Prozac to donate to a good cause?
Or arsenic.
* I don’t really have 430 knives. That is an exaggeration. I thought for a moment about counting them to give an accurate number but I don’t have an hour to spare at the moment.
I now have a roommate.
A friend from a near by village is in the process of transferring positions within the district. While things are being worked out he needs a place to live, in my town.
He will be staying with me.
On my couch.
Since he is actually moving, all his stuff, all his belongings ended up in my tiny apartment.
Box after box after box.
Hours of unpacking.
The upside.
For the first time since, well, since I lived with my mother my kitchen is stocked with food.
Every nook and cranny is stuffed to the max with, stuff.
The downside.
I am weird.
I have been living alone for far too long and am fairly set in my ways. I have places for things. I tend to live like in a hermit-like manner.
You can call me the cat lady, without the cats.
Or urine smell.
To but it mildly, I have quirks.
And now I have someone in my space. Someone with many things. Someone who likes to play video games and sit in my recliner.
My Recliner!
I am currently sitting on the couch, something my tushy is totally not accustomed to. I keep moving to recline and nothing happens! I have, more than once, foolishly reached down to pull the little foot-stool handle thingy finding nothing in my grasp.
My recliner!
You might be asking yourself, “Why don’t you just kick him out of your chair! Reclaim that piece of your mental health!”
It is something I have thought about.
Something I have contemplated.
Something I have dreams of doing.
But already I have enacted to many insane rules.
No shoes in the house.
No touching my 430 knives.*
No disturbing the sprouts.
And no cleaning talking about kittens on every other Tuesday.
Taking the chair back this early in the game would probably cause problems.
I will be forced to loosen up, become less of the aforementioned cat-lady.
It might even be healthy.
But, just in case, does anyone have Prozac to donate to a good cause?
Or arsenic.
* I don’t really have 430 knives. That is an exaggeration. I thought for a moment about counting them to give an accurate number but I don’t have an hour to spare at the moment.
Comments:
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so exactly how do you plan to survive if you move in with us for a while? will you be bringing all of your knives too? :-)
shell
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