So I'm sure I might have mentioned that I'm looking for a roommate? Maybe once, or twice, or eleventy billion times.... Well, you know when you're forced in one way that is totally against the way you want for yourself, forced so forcefully that the pressure builds up until--finally--there is this little internal *plink* and something inside you snaps clean in two? Well, it's happened to me about 4 times in the last two months, but the most recent little snap was caused by what happened last night.
It's a really long and funny story, but you know, really long so I'll cut to the heart of it. My actual Landlord brought people over last night to look at the house. This is a change from my roommate search, as this time it required that all persons in said group would parade themselves through All The Rooms in the house. All. The. Rooms. Including my bedroom, which up till this point had been out of jurisdiction, so to speak.
So yeah, I didn't bother to clean it. It never occurred to me that I would need to. And I'm actually kinda glad I didn't. Because while they were in there opening my closet and doing laps around the room, my unmentionables were strewn across the bed in the exact position that I had left them that morning. And I'm not talkin' 'bout the pretty "for company" unmentionables. I can take the smallest amount of pleasure knowing as uncomfortable as I was for them to BE in my ROOM, I'm sure at least one of them was uncomfortable BEING in there.
As they were discussing the relative smallness of the closet, I can only imagine one of them thinking, "Jesus, well we know why the Bra is on the Queen-sized bed, it wouldn't fit in that tiny closet."
1 week ago