Friday night was awesome, Saturday night more so. I won’t write much about it, because I get imaginary hang-overs whenever I try to remember what happened when I was drunk. Let’s just say that Friday was a dancing-kind of party and Saturday a talking-kind of party, and they both went hand in hand to make a good weekend out of it. I also met a couple of girls from up North, then I met Kekepower & the Wife and their friends, not to mention their shaggy-looking one-eyed dog and exotic aquarium fishes. Both parties ended around 6 o’clock in the morning so it took a man to fight the hours. But it helps when your cousin puts out the XO Braastad cognac.. and has a bed ready made for you, in yellow sheets smelling of fabric softener, and with smiling dinosaurs on them. It’s great to wake up in a little bed with yellow dinosaur sheets. They even had a new toothbrush I could borrow. Much obliged.
After this weekend I was trying to get my daily rhythm back on track, so yesterday I stayed at work until around 10 pm before I went home to cook dinner. I was very happy to find my kitchen looking like this:
There are plenty of hazards where I live. Some of you might remember my incident with a toaster and last week I was almost burned to death by the vacuum cleaner. It’s true! And now this mess to top it all off..
..but I coped, and after a wee while I was gorging on the carcass of a homemade cheeseburger with salted fries and an icy lemonade. I read through the news feeds on my cellular phone while listening to BBC’s World Service around midnight when one of my co-habitants returned home. I knew she had just completed her exams and lo and behold! there she was clinging to her boyfriend like a giggling little gnat. I guess she thought she deserved a hard’un afore Christmas.
..and good for her! Well deserved!
..but my paper-thin walls contributed to little defense from what was supposed to be a delightful evening setting the rhythm straight. Oh, they kept the rhytm straight all right. She’s a librarian, so all kinds of pornographic scenarios apply, the starved little vegetarian thing turned ferociously hungry from what I could hear. I am writing this in the hope that her grandmother reads it.
And a few feet away from all the action was I – trying to get some sleep – a shivering, anxious little bunny with hallucinations, gnawing on my pillow so as not to die. I was trying to read Hegel’s Ethics of Recognition but I could barely recognize Hegel through all the banging. I finally managed to fall asleep by suffocation, under the duvet. (Had to look up that word in the dictionary. "Continental quilt", WTF is that anyway? Sounds like a Scotsman in Nazi Germany.)
This morning I got up at the right time, pretty pleased with myself, lit a cigarette and spilled a cup of coffee, and jumped into the shower. I usually turn on some music when I’m getting dressed to set the mood for the day, and since ’twas only minus three degrees Celsius (26.6°F) outside I put on some French New Age jungle music called Deep Forest. This must have triggered some kind of uhm, trigger, because when I went to get a second cup of coffee they were at it again, banging each other’s brains out like Teletubbies on Viagra, just like the night before.
This completely ruined my mood, and with 2 Pac’s Military Minds and Eminem’s Hellbound blaring on my headphones I set the record straight walking to work. I just don’t know how much more I can take of this shit. How long before the anxious little bunny ‘comes a Donnie Darko murder rabbit?