this is not a rant about being busy, this is a rant about people who waste my time
would you believe that i'm not even pms-ing?
My typical day includes committments from 8am to about 10pm. Then I do homework. Then there are people who want to hang out outside my room until 2am. I usually get about 3 or 4 hours of sleep on weeknights. Therefore, I don't want to hear it when I leave a conversation to take a half-hour nap in the middle of the day between classes.
I understand that the area outside my bedroom is technically considered common area. I know that I am usually to be found there myself, drinking and making noise on weekend nights. I know it's a convinient place to hang out. On the flip side, I can hear every word being spoken in that lounge when I'm in my room, and I'm pretty sure that you can hear me too. Therefore, I don't appreciate it when I go to bed at 1:30am, and have to lay awake listening to your conversations until 3:00. Take your skeezy brother and the irritating skanks he attracts somewhere else to make out.
It's been a month and a half, and I still don't have a doorknob. I have a door propped into a hole in the wall with bits of insulation stuffed in the cracks. There used to be a scrap of wood drilled into the frame to keep the door from swinging open, but that got knocked out when the workers were redoing the beams on the porch. Most mornings I wake up around 6am or so to a gentle breeze across my face, because my door has blown open again during the night.
Don't you dare ask me what happened to your bicycle. You were too cheap and lazy to ship it home for the summer, and you assumed that if you left in the house (scheduled to be completely gutted over the summer, major renovation), that I would accept responsibility for it. And I did, for awhile, until I realized you were a lying douchebag and lost interest. I haven't seen it since June. It's a small campus, go find it yourself.
Don't assume it's an open invitation. Just because I enjoy your company doesn't mean I enjoy the company of your girlfriend. Believe it or not you two can breathe air not already exhaled by the other person. Try it. I actually hate your girlfriend.
I have an extremely persistant spyware program on my computer, and I cannot get rid of it. I don't have time to sit down and back up all my data so I can take it to IT to get fixed--more often than not, their solution is to wipe the hard drive completely. Without asking. I'm going to go ahead and blame the school for this, since they provided the computer, the anti-virus programs, and the internet connection. Boo.
I haven't had time to do laundry in three weeks. I have literally nothing to wear. Pardon me for getting annoyed when you take both dryers to dry your clothes that you wash downstairs in the BATHROOM SINK. Not that I'm trying to tell you how to run your life, but maybe you should have packed fewer shoes and more than 4 pairs of underwear when you left Hong Kong? And then you have the audacity to always be in the laundry room when I am, so I can't even sneak in and dump your crap all over the floor. Couldn't you read your Chinese fashion magazines somewhere else?
I resent being guilted into hanging out with you on your birthday because you have no actual friends, just the people who live with you. You randomly (and forcefully) assigned someone to organize your surprise party. I spent an hour of my time and ten dollars on a cocktail to watch you take tequila shots in a fancy bar and try to make out with gay men. You are one of the most abrasive people I know and I hate you.
I'm designing a show with a cast of 31. Right now individual costume pieces number 468. I am in the costume studio five hours a day at the very least. Be assured, you will see me in there at some point. You do not need to start calling when I'm not there yet when you get there right after your class. I have class too. I like to eat sometimes. I will be there very soon, and then you can get my opinion on the one hat you managed to fish out of stock. When you've racked up four voicemails in the six minutes that have passed since classes let out, that's a problem.
You are notorious for designing costumes absolutely covered with as much trim and sequins and beading and crap as you can possibly cram on there. You personally are notorious for never stepping foot outside without being loaded down with almost more jewelry than you can carry. We know you're coming because we can hear you clanking before you turn the corner. I don't like you and I don't want to work with you and I don't want your kiss of death on my show, but I was forced into it, so I saved you a specific number, one that specifically called for all the gaudy tacky crap you can imagine, just like you love to do, and you give me...leotards? Well, aren't you creative.
You are 19 years old. You proposed to your 21-year-old girlfriend in front of the entire department on Saturday. Good for you. You've known each other maybe ten months, and this time last year, you were gay! I raise my glass to you indeed. We all know you only did it to reclaim your territory after we all spent the last two weeks watching her naked on stage, and besides, another public function was coming up, and you've run out of birthdays and anniversaries to sing to her for. May you be happy with each other.
Since when does being labeled "sweet" or "nice" or "well, you know she means well" wash away all your sins? You are obnoxious as all hell, completely incompetent, and everything you touch magically falls apart. You may be cute but damn you are a waste of skin. A jar of mayonnaise would be more of a help to me than you are. Quit forcing her on me!!!!!!!!!!
I realize that I made you a committment. I realize that there is a deadline. I realize that I'm not getting it done in the time frame that I said that I would be able to. But realize that I'm doing you a favor, at a time when I'm already really busy. I still want to, and I will. But let's talk about something else, shall we?
I don't know if it's the kid who may have never seen a dishwasher because she's from a different country, or the kid who may have never seen a dishwasher because he flys to the Hamptons every weekend, but there should be tingling sensation at the back of your brain that tells you its not proper procedure to rest a dirty plate on top of the clean ones in the dishwasher, especially if that plate still has the food scraps and the silverware stacked on it and is made from PAPER.
My typical day includes committments from 8am to about 10pm. Then I do homework. Then there are people who want to hang out outside my room until 2am. I usually get about 3 or 4 hours of sleep on weeknights. Therefore, I don't want to hear it when I leave a conversation to take a half-hour nap in the middle of the day between classes.
I understand that the area outside my bedroom is technically considered common area. I know that I am usually to be found there myself, drinking and making noise on weekend nights. I know it's a convinient place to hang out. On the flip side, I can hear every word being spoken in that lounge when I'm in my room, and I'm pretty sure that you can hear me too. Therefore, I don't appreciate it when I go to bed at 1:30am, and have to lay awake listening to your conversations until 3:00. Take your skeezy brother and the irritating skanks he attracts somewhere else to make out.
It's been a month and a half, and I still don't have a doorknob. I have a door propped into a hole in the wall with bits of insulation stuffed in the cracks. There used to be a scrap of wood drilled into the frame to keep the door from swinging open, but that got knocked out when the workers were redoing the beams on the porch. Most mornings I wake up around 6am or so to a gentle breeze across my face, because my door has blown open again during the night.
Don't you dare ask me what happened to your bicycle. You were too cheap and lazy to ship it home for the summer, and you assumed that if you left in the house (scheduled to be completely gutted over the summer, major renovation), that I would accept responsibility for it. And I did, for awhile, until I realized you were a lying douchebag and lost interest. I haven't seen it since June. It's a small campus, go find it yourself.
Don't assume it's an open invitation. Just because I enjoy your company doesn't mean I enjoy the company of your girlfriend. Believe it or not you two can breathe air not already exhaled by the other person. Try it. I actually hate your girlfriend.
I have an extremely persistant spyware program on my computer, and I cannot get rid of it. I don't have time to sit down and back up all my data so I can take it to IT to get fixed--more often than not, their solution is to wipe the hard drive completely. Without asking. I'm going to go ahead and blame the school for this, since they provided the computer, the anti-virus programs, and the internet connection. Boo.
I haven't had time to do laundry in three weeks. I have literally nothing to wear. Pardon me for getting annoyed when you take both dryers to dry your clothes that you wash downstairs in the BATHROOM SINK. Not that I'm trying to tell you how to run your life, but maybe you should have packed fewer shoes and more than 4 pairs of underwear when you left Hong Kong? And then you have the audacity to always be in the laundry room when I am, so I can't even sneak in and dump your crap all over the floor. Couldn't you read your Chinese fashion magazines somewhere else?
I resent being guilted into hanging out with you on your birthday because you have no actual friends, just the people who live with you. You randomly (and forcefully) assigned someone to organize your surprise party. I spent an hour of my time and ten dollars on a cocktail to watch you take tequila shots in a fancy bar and try to make out with gay men. You are one of the most abrasive people I know and I hate you.
I'm designing a show with a cast of 31. Right now individual costume pieces number 468. I am in the costume studio five hours a day at the very least. Be assured, you will see me in there at some point. You do not need to start calling when I'm not there yet when you get there right after your class. I have class too. I like to eat sometimes. I will be there very soon, and then you can get my opinion on the one hat you managed to fish out of stock. When you've racked up four voicemails in the six minutes that have passed since classes let out, that's a problem.
You are notorious for designing costumes absolutely covered with as much trim and sequins and beading and crap as you can possibly cram on there. You personally are notorious for never stepping foot outside without being loaded down with almost more jewelry than you can carry. We know you're coming because we can hear you clanking before you turn the corner. I don't like you and I don't want to work with you and I don't want your kiss of death on my show, but I was forced into it, so I saved you a specific number, one that specifically called for all the gaudy tacky crap you can imagine, just like you love to do, and you give me...leotards? Well, aren't you creative.
You are 19 years old. You proposed to your 21-year-old girlfriend in front of the entire department on Saturday. Good for you. You've known each other maybe ten months, and this time last year, you were gay! I raise my glass to you indeed. We all know you only did it to reclaim your territory after we all spent the last two weeks watching her naked on stage, and besides, another public function was coming up, and you've run out of birthdays and anniversaries to sing to her for. May you be happy with each other.
Since when does being labeled "sweet" or "nice" or "well, you know she means well" wash away all your sins? You are obnoxious as all hell, completely incompetent, and everything you touch magically falls apart. You may be cute but damn you are a waste of skin. A jar of mayonnaise would be more of a help to me than you are. Quit forcing her on me!!!!!!!!!!
I realize that I made you a committment. I realize that there is a deadline. I realize that I'm not getting it done in the time frame that I said that I would be able to. But realize that I'm doing you a favor, at a time when I'm already really busy. I still want to, and I will. But let's talk about something else, shall we?
I don't know if it's the kid who may have never seen a dishwasher because she's from a different country, or the kid who may have never seen a dishwasher because he flys to the Hamptons every weekend, but there should be tingling sensation at the back of your brain that tells you its not proper procedure to rest a dirty plate on top of the clean ones in the dishwasher, especially if that plate still has the food scraps and the silverware stacked on it and is made from PAPER.