Your landlord is not going to like this. Another late payment is definitely not a boss move, especially after the last warning. Remember that warning? It went like this: "If you're late one more time with rent, I'm not going to like it and then you aren't going to like it. This is a warning." That's what he said, but in a Russian accent. He's probably going to break your legs.
You call your mom and ask if it's okay if you move back for a bit. Nothing permanent, you say unsure if you're trying to convince her or yourself.
"Of course you can," she says. She loves you very much and she doesn't care a bit about what your life has become. "Did I tell you that Tony and I got a dog. It's a pugaloo."
"Well, we did. Maybe if you called more often, you'd know about these things."
"Okay, mom." But it's not okay. Not okay one bit. She lectures you for twenty minutes about family. It's a sign of things to come.
"Do you want me and Tony to stop over and help you move?"
You look around your studio apartment, at the empty walls, the empty shelves, the empty fridge. You look at your lack of furniture, lack of anything, at your lack of existence.
"No," you say. "I'll be over soon."
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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