- Me: Sit over here. [Points to couch]
- Meron: On your bed?!
I took a nap on the couch and the TV remote was essentially under my body the whole time. My friend had to endure watching TMZ and others during this one hour.
Per the norm, I reached the midway point of cleaning up my room and have now lost all momentum. It must be the lack of Gladiator.
Upstairs Neighbor finally moved to two floors above me, so now I can’t hear him stomping around. I thought I also couldn’t hear anything else (music, tv, talking, sex) but Screamer woke me up this morning. At least they were going at it at 7:30 and not between the hours of 4 and 6.
I went downstairs to start my first of five rounds of laundry and started putting my clothes into the two empty washers (one was full). A guy walks in and I was hoping he wouldn’t accuse me of hogging the washers. Instead, he asked me if I need to use any dryers—”are you sure?” He then asked me how my labor day was going, he told me he was having a “nice and relaxing” one, and wished me a great rest of the day.
I love it when people are nice. We need more people like him in this building.
At 12:15 this morning, my roommate called my phone and woke me up. I didn’t pick up in time, and then I heard a knock on my door. “Sorry, but can we switch cars? It’s an emergency.” If it were an emergency, I’d think she’d just use both car keys—which are by the door at all times—and moved the cars herself rather than waking me up mid-deep sleep and having to wait for me to get ready.
For once in our 2+ years living together, I did not hide my anger, and I called her out on it. “What kind of an emergency is this?” “Oh, I don’t know. But she called me and said she needed me to come over, so I had to get someone to drop me back off…” yada, yada, yada.
By the time I got back in bed, my heart was racing so fast from how fucking upset I was that I could not go back to sleep for an hour. If this was a true emergency, I’ll probably end up apologizing. But if this was to go console someone after a break up, or worse yet, to go out, I don’t think I’ll be able to let this one go.
I despise dealing with dishes that haven’t been rinsed, and I have to deal with them both at home and at work. It is not difficult, and it makes matters easier for when you actually have to wash the dishes! The plates I just loaded into the dishwasher were covered in some very questionable, disgusting substance. People are repulsive.
Even though it really isn’t much, I feel like I got a lot done.
- I showered.
- I left the apartment.
- After four weeks, I finally got my nails done (even though there was some judgment over my easily bruised shins).
- Once again, after four weeks, I finally washed my car.
- I cooked some black beans. This was quite an ordeal that involved me calling my mother and asking for basic instructions, which she found absolutely hilarious. Apparently, I can’t just cook onions and garlic without first putting some oil or butter on the pan.
- I started a new book. It is very interesting and I’m only 20 pages in.
- I read two of my magazines—I’ve been neglecting all of my magazines recently.
- And with all of the above, I still managed to catch most of the SVU marathon.