I don't need anyone to ream my ass with sunshine.
What I need is someone to make me soup and pick me up from the bus station. Pending those benefits, just shut up and bring me the drink slip. I'm working on a story here and I don't care to be interrupted by empty compliments.
Despite myself, I am probably not a bad person. I live in a crackhouse with six crazy girls(give or take a few loser boyfriends) and three or four cats. They all have very loud sex.
I ride a bike to work in the rain at 7am. My jeans feel like a big, wet diaper while I make lattes for people who have nothing better to do but sit in a coffee shop and cruise profiles on match.com. I am subjected to people, a.k.a. customers, a.k.a. a young woman who drinks mochas daily and carries a dog in her purse. I am often forced to engage in conversations, which I can usually fake. I retreat to an espresso machine, take drink slips, and make white-chocolate mochas with whipped cream for six hours until my scalded fingers start to crack and bleed.
I come home. One roommate is sitting on the couch, stoned, watching a snowy version of public television and waiting for her boyfriend. There is cat poop in the corner. I guess someone was waiting for it to dry so that they could flick it underneath the couch. It is apparent that, since 6:30 this morning, the dishes have been eagerly awaiting my return along the banks of our shit-filled sink. Terrified of the sewage, cigarette butts and old tea bags await rescue atop empty cans of PBR and old oatmeal and rice encrusted with mustard seeds is saving chickpeas on a boyant patch of human hair. I think a small child is stuck in the drain.
I find my room, chilly and wet. I lie on my down comforter that is, more often than not, reeking of cat pee. I do not own a cat.
The power goes off on the third floor.
I put a note on the frigde, requesting reimbursement from housemates for the bills I have paid on behalf of the house. I can expect thier shares no sooner than 4 weeks after the 3rd time I've had to ask them in person and 2 days after I've started to break dishes, steal food, and put the cats outside. At heart, I am really not a bad person.
But I might deserve this. I teased the reatarded kid. More than one retarded kid. I owe it to the universe to live like this and it must be true. I live in this house because I havent moved out yet.
