Late Night Walks With Rocky

Rocky has recently taken to demanding late night walks. I think it’s because he secretly hates me; or maybe my new weird schedule threw his off too. ┬áNormally, I love to walk the little creature. It’s the only exercise I get, and he enjoys the hell out of his walks.

I’m not gonna lie though, I don’t find much pleasure in having to step into frigid air and darkness when all I really want to do is curl up in my bed and look at memes on my phone.

I made my way to the door when I realized my jackets were allllllll the way upstairs. But there was a blanket on the couch…

My thought process upon seeing the blanket:

“Is it socially acceptable to wrap myself in a blanket to go walk my dog? Probably not.

Am I gonna do it anyways? Yeah.”

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^ Tell me these don’t look cozier than a jacket for a midnight stroll.

When, Oh When, Will I Stop Being Oblivious

Roommate: Aww, a light bulb just went out in the bathroom.

Me: That sucks, we can’t shower in the dark.

R: There’s three more light bulbs, it’s not a problem for now.

Me: Three more? We have four light bulbs in the bathroom!?

R: Yes.

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(The look of disbelief I gave her.)

Me: Since when?

R: Since we moved in three years ago…

Me: Huh.

 

This conversation seriously made me wonder how in the world I get through life.

My Phone and My Food are Very Important to Me

Yesterday as I was going downstairs, I slipped and fell. In this embarrassing moment of complete clumsiness I learned something about myself: my priorities are not in order.

Rather than trying to catch myself or trying to assure my safety in any way, shape, or form, I raised my hands up so as to not drop things. Why would I do that? I had my phone in one hand, and a piece of ribs in the other.

Instead of trying to make sure I didn’t die, my brain’s immediate reaction was:

“SAVE THE DEVICE AND SUSTENANCE”

Priorities…

Door Etiquette

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Do I hold the door for you if you’re more than ten feet away?

Do I say thank you twice if there’s two doors you hold open for me but they’re literally two feet away from each other?

If I accidentally end up holding the door open for 77 people because I tried to hold it for you, will you stand by awkwardly until I’ve finished my door person duties?

If I hold the door and you don’t say thank you am I allowed to silently judge you for the rest of my life, even if we only existed in each other’s lives for that brief 20 seconds?

These questions keep me up at night.

And elevator doors… that’s a whole other thing.