I am nothing if not a staunch perpetuate of that highly coveted "Black love." I think it is a beautiful thing. And I love my roommate as much as someone can love a roommate they barely see but is still somehow slightly jealous of. Honest-it seems like I complain about her a lot but she's a great person to live with. I have issues, not her.
But. When I am trying to relax at the kitchen table and watch Youtube videos of sex songs, I need to do so alone. I was, in fact, doing so alone, until I heard the front door open and had to snatch my 'do-rag off quickly, forgetting that the jumbo-sized bag of Tostitos on which I was snacking was, uh, hers. I thought Roommate and BF would go upstairs and screw or something, seeing as they hadn't seen each other in like three days after her business trip. Oh, no. They sauntered around on the couch in front of the TV deciding what they wanted for dinner. Except the TV was OFF. THE CABLE IS BROKEN! I wanted to scream. SO WHY ARE YOU STILL DOWN HERE?!?
If you think I let us dance around in semi-awkward silence, you know nothing about the art of survival. I chose the least romantic music on my Itunes, ergo, Lil Wayne.
To cap it off, after losing an entire post dedicated to Lil Wayne last night because of bitchy Comcast, I spent a dramatic two days trying to install the stupid wireless internet. After I finally succeeded, Roommate comes home and asks if we can move the router upstairs into the office. Hold the hell on. I slaved over this internet connection. I forged a path through about a thousand different cords (how many fucking cords do you need to get ethernet? DSL? Whatever it's called) to set up Linksys. I yelled at the automated and completely useless tech support lady to put that thing up. Putting it together the first 50 times was traumatic enough. That router is staying right the hell where I left it. For now, at least.
Breathe. When they come back downstairs, I need to be safely in my room. I hate leaving while they're down here because every time I try they say something like, "Oh, you don't have to leave!" while they are giving each other back rubs or something.
To which I say, oh, but I do.
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6 comments:
I feel you on that whole set up thing! I'd leave that bitch right where I hooked it up, if she wants it changed...let her do it! and that Black Love would wear me the hell out too...and I'm not single!
In college, my roommates were the whole: Look at us! We're so in love! That we have banter while you're in the room! And need to prove it constantly!
Thanks for the show ... but uh, I am going to avoid you now and for the next few days as well ...
Barf.
The Bitter...single...lonely side of me which has reared its head as of late...TOTALLY feels your pain.
LOL. You guys, if nothing, enable my sarcastic resentment off all those in love.
Except for, you know, my parents and stuff.
When I had a roommate it was an unspoken thing between us that we would only chill in the living room when it was just us,we would take our dates in the room so as not to gross anyone out. Nobody wants to see yall calling each other schmoopie
I am so glad you guys agree instead of calling me a vile and jealous bitch. I'm not trippin' after all!
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