"Alright. That. Is IT!" I screamed at my roommate while scraping her kitchen experiment off the couch. "I can't do this anymore you need to move out." I told her in a strict voice. So strict I didn't even know I was capable of that tone.
I groaned as the realization of me sounding like a parent set in.I watched my old roommate scramble into her room to collect her mess of stuff in a hurry. As she did this, I continued to clean the mess she made later that night while writing a mental list of the pros and cons of all the past roommates I've had.
Eventually the house was decently clean and I could finally catch some sleep. The time read 5:00 am , I had three hours of sleep until I needed to get ready for the day.
Eight came quick and loud. My alarm sounded telling me it was time to get rolling, my head ponuded begging the opposite. I silenced the annoying noise and momentarily imagined the outcome of just five more minutes of sleep. Realistically I knew those five minutes would turn to five hours and the consequences to that were consequences I wasn't willing to go through.
By 9:15 am I was ready to set foot out the door. Although my stoumach was full it was pleading for something. Tea. I decided to stop by the coffee shop to fulfill my craving. I ordered my usual green tea and sat down in the corner pulling out my work and waiting for my name to be called.
During my hour at the coffee shop I created a flyer searching for a roomate. I posted it on the shops bulletin. I had twenty free minutes until I needed to be at the studio for work so I went through town posting my 'ad' wherever I could. Surely I'd have no troubles, I assumed. One thing you should know about assumptions is that they are no good and quite immature- don't assume.
Work today was slow. I do art, and work part time in a studio creating and selling art with my mentor. My mentor is a gay man named Garret, again don't go assuming anything about him. He's known me since I was a baby, he used to work with my dad out in the feild. They were geologists together and best friends, they still are good friends. Anyways, once I began to show a true strong interest in art and photography Garret took my under his wings and taught me all he could. As much as I appriciate him I still chose to attend college for art and design, which I'm currently working for a degree in.
Once my shift was over, I had thirty free minutes until my first class of the day. I spent that thirty minutes on the couch waiting anxiously for my phone to ring. Nothing ever happened. After twenty minutes was wasted I grabbed my school bag and walked to the bus. It came shortly after I arrived and took me to the college (UCLA). I had two minutes to cross campus and get to my class, it's pushing the limits, but it's my routine.
Within those two quick minutes my phone rang and I nearly did a cartwheel from the sound. The caller was unknown, normally I would send them to the voicemail but I remembered the ad searching for a new roommate. The voice on the other side was a female, she sounded young, there's not a nice description for my judgement of her intellegence. The call lasted a brief forty-five seconds and ended in a lie. ("I'll call you back! Thank you.")
All the classes after the first were packed on top of each other with ten minutes to 'breathe' in between. By 9:00 pm classes were over and it was time to go to my second job. I took the bus home so I could change into my uniform. By 9:30 pm I had clocked in and my shift had officially begun.
I was a waitress at some local hipster bar. I worked the night shift which ran until 2:30 am. It wasn't the greatest job, every 'unique soul' there was the total opposite of what they considered themselves so there was rarely any ever suprises. I shouldn't be saying all this considering if I hadn't been handling a job there I'd be sitting next to one of those (un)average Joes' sharing a beer with them and exchanging numbers on the back of a polaroid photo. Weird way to share a number? Sure... No. Not there at least.
I finally got home around three carrying a bag of rejected food from the bar. There was nothing wrong with the food other then some hipster didn't consider it to be photo worthy. I took my shoes off by the door, hung up my keys, and walked to the table with the food to eat dinner.
After I ate I washed all of today's dishes then changed into pyjamas so I could finally sleep. My cat, Anka, came and curled up between my legs while my dog, snoopy, layed next to my head. We fell asleep after an episode of That 70's Show.
At that point in time I wished so badly to not need a roommate.
