Marc
That's some damn good spelling up top, considering I don't remember writing it at all. I proceeded to pass out on the couch, in the living room, in my shorts, with my blanket, and with my Ben Folds Five: Sessions at West 54th blaring on the stereo and screen. I only know this because others came home later, and told me to go to my room, and I proceeded to say, "Whatever" over and over again until they left me alone. Next I know, it's 10:00am and the nap-defeating roommate is washing dishes, making breakfast, and being noisy. But I pretend not to hear him until I can stand it no longer and start to moan. At which point he apologizes, but I feel bad and say it's not his fault (though it actually is), and blame my heightened state of awake on my morning surprise -- I have to pee! Then I do pee, and it feels good, and I grab my blanket and tussle my own hair and head into my bedroom, where I throw everything that was on top of my bed onto the floor, and I climb into my bed, with the door open, and I try to fall asleep.
Then the phone rings, and it's an hour later, and the phone rings again, and I don't want to get to bed, because it's only 11:00am, and I shouldn't have to get up and answer the phone, because I know it's not going to be for me, and the phone keeps ringing. It rang 15 times, in a row, on one phone call, from a friend of the nap-defeating roommate, and it stopped ringing just as Rick, Matt's twin brother (who called Matt at the last known party Matt was at, and told him not to come home, because Rick would be taking Matt's spot in Matt's bed, and this was fine, because Matt was too stoned to come home anyways) picked up the phone. He moaned, and shuffled off back to bed while I still pretended to be sleeping, in my bed, in my room, with my door wide open. And then the phone rings again, almost immediately, but this time it's Matt, though I don't know this, laying still quiet in my bed, pretending to snore. And Matt is stranded over at someone's house, soaked from a massive snowball fight that took place at the tail end of the night, and without an automobile with which to drive home in. He needs a ride, but we don't know it is him calling, and we leave the phone ringing, and go back to sleep, and wake up later.
That's some damn good spelling up top, considering I don't remember writing it at all. I proceeded to pass out on the couch, in the living room, in my shorts, with my blanket, and with my Ben Folds Five: Sessions at West 54th blaring on the stereo and screen. I only know this because others came home later, and told me to go to my room, and I proceeded to say, "Whatever" over and over again until they left me alone. Next I know, it's 10:00am and the nap-defeating roommate is washing dishes, making breakfast, and being noisy. But I pretend not to hear him until I can stand it no longer and start to moan. At which point he apologizes, but I feel bad and say it's not his fault (though it actually is), and blame my heightened state of awake on my morning surprise -- I have to pee! Then I do pee, and it feels good, and I grab my blanket and tussle my own hair and head into my bedroom, where I throw everything that was on top of my bed onto the floor, and I climb into my bed, with the door open, and I try to fall asleep.
Then the phone rings, and it's an hour later, and the phone rings again, and I don't want to get to bed, because it's only 11:00am, and I shouldn't have to get up and answer the phone, because I know it's not going to be for me, and the phone keeps ringing. It rang 15 times, in a row, on one phone call, from a friend of the nap-defeating roommate, and it stopped ringing just as Rick, Matt's twin brother (who called Matt at the last known party Matt was at, and told him not to come home, because Rick would be taking Matt's spot in Matt's bed, and this was fine, because Matt was too stoned to come home anyways) picked up the phone. He moaned, and shuffled off back to bed while I still pretended to be sleeping, in my bed, in my room, with my door wide open. And then the phone rings again, almost immediately, but this time it's Matt, though I don't know this, laying still quiet in my bed, pretending to snore. And Matt is stranded over at someone's house, soaked from a massive snowball fight that took place at the tail end of the night, and without an automobile with which to drive home in. He needs a ride, but we don't know it is him calling, and we leave the phone ringing, and go back to sleep, and wake up later.
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