The hard economic truths of my life (No Dolla$, No Cent$) have made it necessary that I continuously live with a roommate, and I’ve gotten lucky because Megan is a special kind of roommate that cooks for me, allows me to coerce her into afternoon drinking and puts up with my…peculiarities. We’re approaching our five year anniversary, which makes Megan shit her pants, so I’m probably going to send a singing telegram or a stripper in a giant cake to her office to mark the occasion because I’m not afraid of publicly declaring how much I love paying for only half of everything.

Just another Saturday morning at our place.

These are your options: live with your parents, your significant other, a roommate or no one at all. The last option is frightening indeed, because it means those peculiarities I mentioned above have nothing and no one to keep them in check. Without a human reminder of how weird you actually are, these tics annex the rest of your life. I know this, because Megan has been out of town for five days.

Like I said, I ALWAYS live with another person, so this opportunity to be perfectly and completely alone, to do exactly NOTHING, had to be taken advantage of because who knew the next time I would experience it? It could legitimately be years. So please, as you read what follows, know that I COULD have gone out and been a social being, but I was going for isolation because I LIKE to be alone. Which is why I should never be left that way; shit gets bizarre quickly.

Day 1 – Taking Advantage of the Situation

Oh man, I get mad Friend Karma Points today because I took Megan to the airport AND helped my other Austin people move out of their apartment! It was so humid and I’m really gross and sweaty, but guess what? I’m not going to shower just yet because I’m here in this sweet climate controlled apartment by myself and I have a beer in my hand and no one can see the dirt stuck to the sweat stuck to me. Wait, I can do better than this. Yes, now I’m just wearing a sports bra. Air conditioning on meeeeee.

Showertime!. For an entire HOUR! With the bathroom door open! With my music playing really loud so I can hear it over the water! With a beer resting on the back of the toilet in arm’s reach!


Day 2 – Things Get Gross

Well I didn’t wear clothes for awhile this morning.

This house is quiet. I’m going to invent errands. I’m going to do laps around Half Price Books for 3 hours which will culminate in purchasing two novels for $2. Achievements! Then I’m going to Target for no reason.

Hello there, Target party tray that should feed 40 people. What large pepperonis you have. I’m going to take you home and ravish you on every flat surface in my apartment leaving the crumbs as evidence of our lusty snackmaking. Who needs actual food or self respect when no one is watching?

This is not the actual party tray I engaged in horrifying acts with. It didn’t last long enough to be photographed.


Day 3 – Burst of Productivity

Jason Mantzoukas had a total of six lines in two seasons of that show. Some bullshit.

My digestive tract wishes I hadn’t eaten all those crackers and cheeses.

Because there are people there, this is the most I’ve looked forward to going to work. The desire for contact will not, however, encourage me to pick up my shoes strewn around this apartment, right the bag of recyclables tipped over on the kitchen floor, do the dishes or worry about the smelly coffee grounds in the garbage. Apparently I have a high tolerance for squalor. And Megan thought I could maintain cleanliness while she was gone! Fool!

Stay an extra hour at work. No big deals, I have nothing to greet me at the apartment but a mess. I should spend more time in my car. It smells better.

No one has listened to me for awhile. I better call my family and talk for a few hours. Painful reminder of what a jackass child I am. Look at cracker crumbs all over carpet while on the phone.

I’ve run out of TV to watch so I have no use for the couch. I think I’ll read a book. And write a couple thousand words for my Great American Novel. Oh, AND I’m going to practice my Tom Waits songs on the piano. Loudly. And poorly. I am NEVER this productive!

 Day 4 – Stupor

Go to work. Enter house. Close curtains. Discover there is no food because the only groceries I bought was that snack platter and I haven’t needed to eat since (like a snake, I can live on a single, very large meal, for some time). Make half-assed tostadas with a can of beans and an onion. Use remaining clean dishes. Ignore pile in the sink.

Stare at computer screen while trying to write next chapter of Great American Novel. Feel very tired. End up looking at gifs and considering buying a dog.

oh. oh my god.

So much for getting shit done. Fall asleep with a book on my face.

 Day 5 – Panic

Oh Christ what atrocities have I wrought in Megan’s absence?! This place is a crazy shithole! The cracker crumbs on everything, beer bottles on the porch, all the episodes of Bob’s Burgers in the Netflix queue. Nothing like the thought of someone discovering your horribly base behavior to make you repent and run a broom around the place.

Though I’m sure evidence of my weird is still plain in our apartment, and Megan will find it with her keen Megan eyes when she gets back in a couple hours, part of this gig is that I forgive her peculiarities too. I might be gross, she might horrified, but in the end we were the people that both thought this photoshop was the best and funniest thing we ever created:

Birds of a feather.


1 thought on “Solitary

  1. Pingback: Forever Unclean | Heart of Snarkness

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