Oh great, it’s Monday

I didn’t do much today except for cleaning my room and actually vacuuming it which I should have done a long time ago. So long ago, in fact, that I’d rather spare you with the details of what my carpet looked like. Also, our vacuum cleaner is a freaking mess. It leaves half the stuff on the floor and it takes forever because you gotta keep going back and forth and you end up going around and around again. Basically, it’s broken and it reminded me of the fact that I will probably have to go and buy a vacuum soon for my new apartment, although I don’t even remember whether it had carpet or a wooden floor and, I know, right? Who doesn’t remember such things? Odd, is what it is. And what I am.

So then, shortly before noon my friend N stopped by more or less unannounced which I hate. I wish I was more relaxed in my ways and, I guess you could say, always prepared but I’m not a boyscout and so I’m not. I need a 24-hour notice at least and people should just have to deal. But no, N doesn’t, she just drops by whenever she pleases and then leaves her bike here to take the bus to the city and then comes back again later that afternoon to pick it up. Meaning that all I can do all day, is sit and wait for her because she continues to come to my house. Why is it that I can’t stand these things? It may have something to do with the pink sweatpants with the mooses on it that I wear around the house and don’t wish to be seen in or just the fact that I got stuff of my own to take care of but still, why does this bother me?

My cousin L called yet later this afternoon and again, I felt like somebody was just about to want things from me again, would want me to go see a movie with them or come out to get some sushi or whatever the fuck all these people do all day and I just wonder why they have to call on my cellphone and then on the house phone and then on my cellphone again, and somehow it seems strange that they don’t get the message. IF SOMEBODY DOESN’T PICK UP THE PHONE THEY PROBABLY DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU OR ANYBODY AND/OR HAVE STUFF TO DO AND/OR ARE NOT EVEN HOME. It does not mean that you should go and call my dad’s cellphone and have him call me and tell me that you wish to go to the movies tonight with me and if I could please answer any of the phones they have called on.

What is it with these people? Seriously. This, of course, is a more or less expected result of my mom going around our extended family and telling anybody that my brother and I never answer the phone so it would be good advise to let it ring for, oh, I don’t know, thirty minutes straight because, then, they will probably answer it since, you know, YOU JUST ANNOYED THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF THEM.

That’s the only explanation. Because I’d say that, ordinarily, people wouldn’t just drop by or keep calling all night because anyone in their right mind would come to the conclusion that the one they called is simply not at home and so that’s that.

But then, of course, I am at home, and so your constant calling and ringing the doorbell pisses me off and, ultimately, leaves me feeling guilty because it’s not right for me to freeze people out like this, especially if I hope for them to come visit me in my carpeted apartment - which may just as well have wooden floors - because once I live there all by myself, I will probably find myself waiting eargerly for somebody, anybody, to fucking care about me.

It’s odd, is what it is. And what I am.

ETA: So she called again later tonight and my judas of a dad answered the phone and was all like, WELL OF COURSE SHE’S AT HOME DIDN’T SHE CALL YOU BACK HERE YOU GO. And then I couldn’t say no to her on the phone because I felt bad enough about not picking up earlier and then also, I once more felt defeated by my dad over-powering me and implying that I’m nothing but a silly child that needs all the guidance in the world, that poor thing, because she doesn’t have any friends.

Which, OH MY FREAKING GOD, makes me so fucking mad. He has no right too say this and I don’t know where it comes from because I have great friends. Plus, it’s not like he has any or goes out on the weekends or anything. He spends every single night watching television and emptying a bottle of wine so who’s he to talk?

But I’m the one who’s going to the 11 o’clock showing of that stupid Sex and the City movie with cousin L tonight. Just lovely. Just fucking lovely.