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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/641469-misanthropy
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Biographical · #1372191
Ohhhhhhhh.
#641469 added March 21, 2009 at 10:53am
Restrictions: None
misanthropy
Nothing different, everything the same. I didn't call because I was too afraid whatever happened would ruin my night. I fell asleep, instead, with the phone curled up in the crook of my elbow so it would wake me up if it rang. It didn't. I don't know what I would have said, anyway.

I woke up several times throughout the night to the sounds of my roommate and his boyfriend banging around in the kitchen. The kitchen was a mess, at the time, because I had been cooking all day without cleaning up behind myself, and I could hear little snippets of their conversation, complaints about what a mess it was. I buried my head under the pillow so I couldn't hear their exact words, but I could tell, just from the inflections, that they were annoyed.

When I came out this morning, they had left their own dishes in a giant, crumb-covered pile by the sink. The dishwasher was completely empty, they just assumed it wasn't because I'd been too lazy to put my own dishes in it. So that, too, is my fault.

*

I keep setting goals I can't reach, deadlines and checkpoints I know I'll flout because I just don't have the willpower. I tied a string around my right index knuckle as a symbol of my resolve, a reminder that I need to be strong, that it'll feel better and more satisfying if this fixes itself on its own. Then I ripped off the string because it was hurting my dialing finger.

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/641469-misanthropy