Get home, evade conversation with roommate, note FedEx package. Don't care. Need bed. But, as it happens every time I try to have a nap any time between the hours of 9am and 2am, the door slams several times, the area just outside my door fills with screaming girly giggles, and I do not get any rest. Finally, the door slams in a way reminiscent of Mortal Kombat (!!Finish Her!!) and I'm just about to get up and stomp pointedly across the living room (passive agressive? not me.) when I notice the voices are gone. Ahh.
Of course the phone rings. I pretend to ignore it. But I hear my friend Colleen's voice on the machine, and I owe her a ride to the airport. I grab it before she hangs up. And it turns out she wants to leave now, not at 8pm, like I'd thought. Piss.
We drive the Volvo to SeaTac, getting hit on twice before we leave Oly. First offender is the cashier at the gas station, telling Colleen she looks like "the kind of girl who really likes to have fun." If he only knew. Then a kid in a suit next to us at a red light asks if we want to make some extra money, interrupting an impromtu rendition of Pour Some Sugar on Me. We speed away toward I-5.
It's really sunny, meaning it's Moron Day on America's Favorite Parking Lot. Traffic's ok until I drop Colleen at the airport, but hell going south. And then I really have to pee.
I get back to Oly to see my roommate heading the opposite direction, toward the freeway. I honk. People look, everyone but her. I honk again. La-dee-da, bellise. Finally I just stick my arms out the window and wave them around like I'd dropped my cigarette in my lap. This serves to make me miss the light turning green, but at least I finally get honked at. Not by bellise, though. She just sticks her tongue out.
The house is empty. RAWK. I get under the covers. Knock, knock. My roommate's boyfriend. I grunt that he should make himself at home, and close the door. If he pees on the carpet, the roommate can clean it up. I think I almost fall asleep. The door slams open again. I overhear about two minutes of a conversation about fascinating attributes of home pregnancy testing kits, then perform the aforementioned drama queen dance of elephant-stepping through the living room to my smoking porch.
It's a gorgeous night, summer blue sky, candy pink clouds, even the concrete under my ass still warm. I decide, fuck it, I've received igloowhite's fascinating-sounding movie in the mail. I'll go watch that. So I do (!!it's really good!! - more on that later). Now I'm just stalling until bedtime.
It occurs to me I'm never going to go anywhere in life if my only goal is making it until the next time I can fall asleep. Tough cookies.