Shenanigans

Dear roomie,

I’d like to apologize for the noise.

I know it was fairly late, and you were trying to sleep. I shouldn’t have let Sally play the drums at such an absurd hour of the night. That was incredibly inconsiderate. I take full responsibility and can assure you that it will not happen again.

I knew I shouldn’t have invited my gals over for Wine Wednesday. I was easily coerced. My gut was probably screaming at me not to, but it was likely silenced by all of the cabernet and cheese I had for dinner.

Which reminds me, I’m also sorry for the vomit. After the impromptu band session, Sally started looking real pale and sweaty. I mean, she was glistening like diamonds in melting snow. But we all thought she was just tuckered out from her solo symphony. I say symphony lightly. In reality, it sounded more like a ten car pile up on the highway.

Naturally, we brought her outside to get some fresh air and hopefully restore her to her regular skin tone. And by ‘brought’ I mean, stumbled arm in arm like otters trying desperately not to float away in a sea of booze. But it was too late. We’d barely made it outside before the current had pulled us apart, and before we knew it, Sally had started a chain reaction like some sick assembly line of puke.

As soon as the air hit her face she spun around and threw up right onto Rachel. Rachel then screamed and ran about 2 steps before she released onto the freshly painted wall. I thought Zoe was solid because unlike concrete, she’s hard to crack, but I was wrong. What looked like laughter was actually her attempting to catch the vomit in her hand like a bowl, which ended up being more like a cheesecloth because the liquid just slowly seeped out instead. And that’s what did me in. So I ran to what I thought was the trash can to let it out, but I realized this morning that it was a planter. Five of them to be exact. Why I went planter hopping is beyond me. I’ll replace the plants, I swear.

I further regret climbing into bed with you naked. That was not my intention. But after the shower I was so exhausted and discombobulated that the hallway became like something out of the shining. It must have been the weed we smoked after the puke fiasco, because I swear that hall was never ending, and so I mistook your door for mine. Which in hind sight, doesn’t make any sense being that our rooms are on opposite sides.

Also, I owe you some weed.

And lastly, I’m sorry for eating all of your food. Honestly, I don’t even remember eating it, but the wrappers and empty chip bags next to my bed clearly pins me as the culprit. Not to mention the crumbs…it’s like I thought that if I smashed the food well enough with my fists it’d somehow make it into my mouth.

Anyways, from here on out I will not have midweek gatherings. I ask for your patience as I work to repair the damage from last night, but it will take time. It turns out that wine and cheese are a hard combo to remove from white stucco. As for any potential emotional damage that you may have incurred, I can refer you to my therapist. She’s specialized in trauma therapy and really works wonders. I suggest EMDR to rid yourself of any lingering images of my birthday suit intrusion.

Thank you for understanding.

- Your apologetic roommate.