End of my tether
Shitbird is the rock in my shoe. The more attention I give him, the more mammoth he becomes until he is all-consuming, awe inspiring and planetary in size. Every aspect of his life seemed small and only slightly invasive, never enough to comment on for fear of disrupting the harmony between new roommates. As time went on, he became more like a virus, spreading and taking over. The bathroom now contains more hair products than I ever fathomed could exist, and the table in the living room provides a home for countless magazines that seem to only advertise clothing, cologne, and semi-naked women. Every morning, I struggle to sleep through countless snooze alarms, every evening I wince as a loud belch or fart herald his arrival home from work, a symphony of bodily noises unexcused.
He has a girlfriend, or a woman he spends time with. She's married to someone else. I know this because she wails about the miseries of married life while they steal my salad dressing. Two shallow people latching on to one another for sex and escape and I can picture just how ironic it's going to be when I open the front door and take a punch from some jealous husband intent on wreaking cold, sweet vengeance while Shitbird's upstairs spooning the last of my blue cheese onto his plate.
The only ray of hope is that he's decided he will be moving out in July. According to him, he's losing his job and like migratory buffalo, Shitbird will let the winds of prosperity carry him, following his dream. Actually, I found out he's going to move home with his parents.
He has a girlfriend, or a woman he spends time with. She's married to someone else. I know this because she wails about the miseries of married life while they steal my salad dressing. Two shallow people latching on to one another for sex and escape and I can picture just how ironic it's going to be when I open the front door and take a punch from some jealous husband intent on wreaking cold, sweet vengeance while Shitbird's upstairs spooning the last of my blue cheese onto his plate.
The only ray of hope is that he's decided he will be moving out in July. According to him, he's losing his job and like migratory buffalo, Shitbird will let the winds of prosperity carry him, following his dream. Actually, I found out he's going to move home with his parents.