I have to pee. Really badly. Why am I writing instead? Because my darling suite mates have been in the bathroom for a good hour. I don't know what they're doing in there. I don't know if it's just one of 'em or both. The shower turns on, a minute later it turns off. A minute later, it's back on. And repeat. For an hour. My bladder is about to declare war on my jeans.
The bathroom is our war zone. Every morning, one of my suite mates, let's call her Thing 1, like Dr. Seuss, gets in the shower just as I get out of bed. She has her first class the same time I do, so that makes sense. So she goes into the bathroom at 8:15am. She doesn't come out until 8:40. And then, she darts in and out, drying her hair, brushing her teeth, whatever. If I'm lucky, I get into the bathroom by 8:50, just in time to splash water on my face, brush my teeth, and sprint across campus for my 9:30am class. I was sneaky and conniving this morning, however. I snuck into the bathroom right when she left after her shower. So I was able to take a decnt shower this morning. I was nice though. I was out in ten minutes. Fifteen, tops. So she could pick up her daily torture-the-suite-mate routine.
My other suite mate, let's name her Thing 2, going along with the Dr. Seuss theme, leaves her hair EVERYWHERE. I think I've whined about her before. I have. She's the one who never cleans and washes her clothes in the bathtub every midnight.
So anyway- YES! SHE'S OUT OF THE BATHROOM!!
Sorry. I got excited. I was able to go potty. I'm in a better mood now, I promise.
Next semester I'm so getting an apartment.
Heart, me.
No comments:
Post a Comment