House Guest

“There’s a girl living in your closet,” the loggers say.

No, not really, there isn’t. First, she is Jean’s friend and her name is Kim. Second, the guest room isn’t my closet. It’s connected to my room. Yes, my cupboard and toilet are in that side of the room. But we’re separated by a glass sliding door! A tinted, thick and heavy door. (Wow, ikr.)

Ok enough with the scandal. If my parents are fine with it, so should you.

I generally enjoy being a host. As introverted as I am, I’m perfectly fine with a complete stranger practically living in my room. (I suspect I’d be more annoyed if that stranger was boisterous and sociable.) Of course, there are some awkward moments and inconveniences – like me coming back at 3am and being a little terrified of taking my usual bath before I sleep, or she having to walk past my sleeping (and I suspect, unglam) form every morning when she goes to work. The most inconvenient thing is probably the additional drain of bandwidth when she is using her laptop at night. Which lags my DOTA games.

It’s funny how the most troublesome things are also the most inconsequential things.

So things work out quite well. We live quite separate lives on weekdays. I think we speak two sentences to each other a day, on average. Plus she enjoyed The Graveyard Book. And Stardust. (These are really important things.)

On that note, having dinner with FOCUS was really quite awesome too.



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About Mel

I dreamt I was a whale.