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So much for a good night’s rest. I spent the whole night counting water stains on the ceiling looming faint in the weak glow of Aixa’s aromatherapy night light. Why didn’t Rorschach use water stains? They’re just as good as ink and much, much cheaper. Anyhow…

We polished off Ben & Jerry from the container. Why bother with bowls? You only have to clean them. My lovely roommate and I laid on the floor with our feet on the couch (Aixa claims it helps reduce one’s chance for varicose veins later in life). My eyelids drifted downward. I felt the tension seeping from my body into the old orange shag carpet.

“Uh, Deni?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I have something, like, I need to tell you.”

Uh-oh. She said ‘like’. Whenever that annoying word laces her vocabulary, you can bet on hearing something you wish you hadn’t.

My eyes opened into tiny slits, “Shoot.”

“Well, it’s kinda like this. You see, I like, asked Scooter to move in with me.”

Oh. My. God. Spasms ripped through my cheeks. I had to squeeze my eyes shut to prevent my whole face from shaking like a NYC jackhammer was remolding my nose. “You mean move in with us.”

Aixa rolled to the side then sat up. Her patchwork prairie skirt wadded up around her tiny waist. Did I mention I hate people with tiny waists? “Sort of. He’ll be in my room. You know.”

“I know?”

“You knowwwww.” Aixa rolled her eyes as she stood up and paced back and forth, stepping over my near-convulsing body.

I feel the need to disclose something here. Aixa’s uh, boyfriend belongs in the zoo. I’m not saying that to be mean or anything. It’s the God-honest truth. That man has more hair on his body than an Asian gorilla! He also smokes weed, and doesn’t believe in daily showers. He quotes from Al Gore’s Inconvenient Truth as it were the Bible. Heck, the dude even started a fan club for Sheryl Crow’s one piece of toilet paper campaign.

And I thought my day couldn’t get any worse. Yeah. Right. Ew.