LonelyStr8manInSF
07-05-2007, 07:53 PM
Fourth of July. Independence Day.
9:30pm: In bed, asleep. Yup, I was boring. And I was happy being boring. Unfortunately, it seems the Fates did not want me to have a restful holiday.
10:15pm: My boss calls me. For the life of me, I cannot remember why, what we talked about, or anything beyond the fact that he called. Three minutes later, I was asleep again.
2:05am: I groggily answer a call from a close friend and partner in my startup company. He has just been assaulted by a housemate and is so angry he needs to get out of there. I tell him to get over to my place (2 blocks away). He doesn't show, so I put on clothes and go to his apartment, where a yelling match is in progress. I have to restrain them at one point, or it would have come to blows, again. Finally they go into their respective rooms, my friend saying he has to get out of there. Just before we leave, a different housemate (stoner-musician) comes into the room, brandishing a sword (no I'm not fucking kidding) and declaring himself the ruler of the house. It takes all my restraint not to knock out a couple of his teeth. My friend and I decided the time has come to leave. So we go back to my apartment.
3:15am: My friend is calmed. He is mostly sober. Because there is nowhere else, I allow him to share my bed. Not quite who I had hoped to be sleeping with tonight...
3:20am: I go into the hallway towards the kitchen to get a glass of water, when: *MRREEOOOWWW!* WHAT THE FUCK??? Then again: *MRRAOWW* I hit the light, and there in my kitchen, huddled over an empty can of Progresso Chicken Noodle Soup, is a cat. I love cats, very very much. But I do not currently own a cat. Which leads me to the following conclusion: THERE IS A FERAL CAT IN MY KITCHEN. SHIT. I open the front door. The cat gives me a wary once-over, another loud *MRRROOWW*, then bolts out the door. Once the door is closed I dissolve into a fit of laughter.
5:00am: I hate being an insomniac. Especially when I can't read a book, because that will disturb my friend, who is sleeping soundly. I get up to use the bathroom and wander the kitchen (all 20 square feet of it) and return to find my friend, who is unhealthily thin, has managed to sprawl across the entirety of my Full-sized bed. Wow. I balance myself precariously on the edge of the bed. The clock reads 5:47am.
6:20am: I wake up. My friend is snoring.
7:30am: I ponder the benefits and drawbacks of intravenous caffeine. I take 1000mg of ibuprofen for the massive headache already starting. I shower. The day has begun.
Ahhhh, the cathartic process of bitching. :D
9:30pm: In bed, asleep. Yup, I was boring. And I was happy being boring. Unfortunately, it seems the Fates did not want me to have a restful holiday.
10:15pm: My boss calls me. For the life of me, I cannot remember why, what we talked about, or anything beyond the fact that he called. Three minutes later, I was asleep again.
2:05am: I groggily answer a call from a close friend and partner in my startup company. He has just been assaulted by a housemate and is so angry he needs to get out of there. I tell him to get over to my place (2 blocks away). He doesn't show, so I put on clothes and go to his apartment, where a yelling match is in progress. I have to restrain them at one point, or it would have come to blows, again. Finally they go into their respective rooms, my friend saying he has to get out of there. Just before we leave, a different housemate (stoner-musician) comes into the room, brandishing a sword (no I'm not fucking kidding) and declaring himself the ruler of the house. It takes all my restraint not to knock out a couple of his teeth. My friend and I decided the time has come to leave. So we go back to my apartment.
3:15am: My friend is calmed. He is mostly sober. Because there is nowhere else, I allow him to share my bed. Not quite who I had hoped to be sleeping with tonight...
3:20am: I go into the hallway towards the kitchen to get a glass of water, when: *MRREEOOOWWW!* WHAT THE FUCK??? Then again: *MRRAOWW* I hit the light, and there in my kitchen, huddled over an empty can of Progresso Chicken Noodle Soup, is a cat. I love cats, very very much. But I do not currently own a cat. Which leads me to the following conclusion: THERE IS A FERAL CAT IN MY KITCHEN. SHIT. I open the front door. The cat gives me a wary once-over, another loud *MRRROOWW*, then bolts out the door. Once the door is closed I dissolve into a fit of laughter.
5:00am: I hate being an insomniac. Especially when I can't read a book, because that will disturb my friend, who is sleeping soundly. I get up to use the bathroom and wander the kitchen (all 20 square feet of it) and return to find my friend, who is unhealthily thin, has managed to sprawl across the entirety of my Full-sized bed. Wow. I balance myself precariously on the edge of the bed. The clock reads 5:47am.
6:20am: I wake up. My friend is snoring.
7:30am: I ponder the benefits and drawbacks of intravenous caffeine. I take 1000mg of ibuprofen for the massive headache already starting. I shower. The day has begun.
Ahhhh, the cathartic process of bitching. :D