Double whammy
Work. Clean. Sleep. Repeat.
After being gone for the weekend (I'll get to that later), I came home to a house of destruction. The living room and kitchen were littered with Solo cups, Malibu, some other dark rum, Coors Light, Nadie Light, PBR, and even Schlitz. I counted five tied-off trash bags sitting on the kitchen floor. There was a pot full of dried up, crusty macaroni and cheese which looked as if only two bites were eaten. My gallon of milk was empty and on the floor. But that I don't mind so much, seeing as it's been around throughout the course of our fridge breaking down three times. Hope the mystery drunk-ass enjoyed it.
Not to say I'm above "drunk-ass" status. Hell, I'm pretty sure I even contributed a chapter or two to the volume. But I'm so fucking tired of cleaning up after my roommates and "guests" of our household. On average, we have people over to our place probably three times a week. We've lived here for exactly one year as of today. I can count on one hand how many times these "guests" have contributed to the post-party cleanliness of the 643. Equally aggravating, even the friends I live with never take the initiative themselves to make our home even remotely clean looking. I am always the instigator in cleaning house. Just once I'd like to come home from work and see everything clean ... just once.
On a much happier note, me being gone for the weekend involved my visit down to Knoxville to see Caitlin. As demonstrated, it was a much needed break from the homestead. Caitlin was worried I wouldn't have a good time and that I'd be bored.
"Strange," I thought, "to me, 'wasting' a day away by sleeping in late with her in my arms, lazily watching TV all through the afternoon, and comfortably getting drunk in her room without a big crowd in the evening, only to end the night falling asleep with her back in my arms ... that seems to be exactly what I am looking for."
Usually, after being away from home for X number of days and a long drive home, you can't wait to sleep in your own bed again. I slept in my own bed last night, but it wasn't something that I necessarily enjoyed. I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for whole cuddling thing. I already miss it. I already miss her.
I departed Knoxville, leaving behind what I wish I could take with me, only to come home to something I wish I could leave behind. Go figure.
- TP
After being gone for the weekend (I'll get to that later), I came home to a house of destruction. The living room and kitchen were littered with Solo cups, Malibu, some other dark rum, Coors Light, Nadie Light, PBR, and even Schlitz. I counted five tied-off trash bags sitting on the kitchen floor. There was a pot full of dried up, crusty macaroni and cheese which looked as if only two bites were eaten. My gallon of milk was empty and on the floor. But that I don't mind so much, seeing as it's been around throughout the course of our fridge breaking down three times. Hope the mystery drunk-ass enjoyed it.
Not to say I'm above "drunk-ass" status. Hell, I'm pretty sure I even contributed a chapter or two to the volume. But I'm so fucking tired of cleaning up after my roommates and "guests" of our household. On average, we have people over to our place probably three times a week. We've lived here for exactly one year as of today. I can count on one hand how many times these "guests" have contributed to the post-party cleanliness of the 643. Equally aggravating, even the friends I live with never take the initiative themselves to make our home even remotely clean looking. I am always the instigator in cleaning house. Just once I'd like to come home from work and see everything clean ... just once.
On a much happier note, me being gone for the weekend involved my visit down to Knoxville to see Caitlin. As demonstrated, it was a much needed break from the homestead. Caitlin was worried I wouldn't have a good time and that I'd be bored.
"Strange," I thought, "to me, 'wasting' a day away by sleeping in late with her in my arms, lazily watching TV all through the afternoon, and comfortably getting drunk in her room without a big crowd in the evening, only to end the night falling asleep with her back in my arms ... that seems to be exactly what I am looking for."
Usually, after being away from home for X number of days and a long drive home, you can't wait to sleep in your own bed again. I slept in my own bed last night, but it wasn't something that I necessarily enjoyed. I'll admit it, I'm a sucker for whole cuddling thing. I already miss it. I already miss her.
I departed Knoxville, leaving behind what I wish I could take with me, only to come home to something I wish I could leave behind. Go figure.
- TP