So I'm home. I feel like ick and there was nothing to do at work. Therefore, I left. I honestly have no idea why I went in at all. Being at home has allowed me to make some interesting observations...
The cafes at Union Station? PACKED. Packed with (mostly) men in suits, schmoozing away. My, that scone looks lovely, my friend. And my latte? Delish! Here, try some of my quiche - no worries, I can order another one. It's covered! Ha ha hum ha ho hum! Now where do you stand on gun control? I forgot. My latte is just so intoxicating! Perhaps that was the Bailey's... No matter! What were we talking about again? Right. If this is "work," where do I sign up?
Children in "D.A.R.E."-like shirts? Standing on all of the street corners, of course. They weren't passing out flyers, or trying to sell candy bars, or even paying much attention to what was going on around them (a cop pulling someone over? nothing). Why? Why aren't they in school for one thing, and why are they standing around unsupervised with big yellow t-shirts covering their uniforms?
Loudy McStompy? The guy upstairs? Has a CLEANING SERVICE. At least, that's my guess. What else would explain the CONSTANT banging and stomping and vacuuming and dropping of things and my stuffing my ears with Swedish Fish to attempt to block out the noise since my HEAD IS POUNDING and this headache WON'T GO AWAY? Who needs a maid, anyway? How messy can one guy be? Well, if it's in any way related to how loud one guy can be...
The two mice CreePaul caught and wanted a victory parade for doing so? Must have sick family members, because there is a smell in the house that makes me want to VOM. Ah, scented candles... Problem solved.
The sound I hear when the mailman drops the mail through the front door mail slot? Terrifying! I thought that someone was in the house! Where's that baseball bat? And where's my Netflix? Arrested Development season two, disc three isn't going to watch itself, now is it?
I need vitamins.
4 comments:
at least you haven't been woken up at the butt crack of dawn by your upstairs neighbors blaring "endless love." and oooh, until now i had forgotten about the old upstairs neighbor who used to wake me up daily with his african dance routine, drums pounding, music blaring, and feet stomping all across the bedroom ceiling for a full hour. now that's fun.
In the dorms, two girls would blast "Believe" by Cher every time they came back to their room. And they'd put it on repeat.
But an African dance routine? That's horrible.
I think the kiddies now get the entire week of Thanksgiving off. Probably because half of them would be gone anyway. So...when are you moving?
Umm...my roommies and I have a cleaning service.
And when I was in college, our neighbors would wake us up at 2 in the morning with their ridiculously loud lovemaking. It was disturbing.
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