blitzkrieg bop

01.22.04 @ 4:51 p.m.

I'm going to attempt a massive chunk of catchup homework tonight, blarg, and I should have started when I got home an hour ago, but I realized how hideously filthy this house is. Also, I had a package from my aunt Eileen.

So I just spent the last hour sweeping and cleaning the table and the counters in the kitchen. For some reason, Ena is just... blind to the fact that tables and counters get dirty. If I didn't wipe them off every now and then, it'd never get done. I'm also kind of madd that I've been doing all the dishes since before vacation started.

When I am the clean one, there are serious problems because I am really a messy person. One and a half of our three couches are piled with my stuff, and all my clean clothes are stacked on my bedroom floor rather than in the dresser because I can't be bothered to put them away.

Ena might be moving away for graduate school. Most of me wishes she'd stick around so I wouldn't have to deal with finding a new living situation or even think of jogging myself out of my complacency. The other part of me keeps muttering, "Go, go, I would not have you back again." How do you fucking dirty two great big pans every morning just on breakfast for one? How do you never, ever see a dirty counter (without being a man, anyway)?

And then there's the incense, which sometimes I don't mind, but for some reason when she starts fumagating her room without closing her door all the way, I get mad because the smoke makes me feel sick. If she were using it for the usual Eugenian reasons, I think I'd almost be happier. Pot smoking might explain some of her bizarre quirks and give me something to disapprove of and blame. But I've lived in this city quite long enough to know what marijuana smells like and it's just not there.

I am possibly pouring off school related stress into baseless anger against the person I live with. I admit this freely.

So I spent an hour scrubbing today and mentally grumbling that since she thinks she'll never marry, she'll die alone of Legionnaire's disease or leprosy or one of those other 'living in unsanitary conditions' diseases.

Also, it looks as though I am going to a Ryan Adams concert, which is perhaps cheating because I don't really know much of his stuff. **shhhh** Martha said, "It's open admission so be prepared to be pressed against sweaty hipsters!"

Now I need to figure out what the hell I need to read out of this anthology of Oregon short fiction so I can dash off a really shit open topic paper and email it to a professor I haven't met yet!

[title because I unleashed a blitzkrieg of lysol on this motherfucking house, and I happened to be listening to it when I finished the entry. I need more Ramones stuff.]

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Previously

fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05