Moving in now.
Moving in now.
Your cellphone begins to sing a tone, and you rush over to answer the call. “Hello?” Your voice goes to a crescendo, and eventually you yell “Hello?!” in exasperation through the small mouthpiece, because all you could hear is a conversation going on from the other side of the phone (and sometimes, a beep or two). Only then you realise that the caller had pressed the wrong buttons and had somehow connected a call to you unintentionally. Perhaps the phone got pressed onto a lipstick and a Snoopy keychain. Or two people were being too close for comfort with each other. Maybe the phone knocked onto a table or two while sitting comfortably in a jeans pocket.
I received phone calls of that sort a few times. Usually I could not bear to listen to the exchange of words going on from far, far away. It seemed as though I was an invisible, accidental intruder, spying and eavesdropping – although the conversation involved was innocent and nothing important, such as hungry complaints and random discussion.
Lock the keypads, next time.
Jumped queue. Sort of. Broken doorknob. Bathroom light not functioning. A few parquet tiles missing. Three coins down in the toilet bowl. Dust and dirt. Red ants. Scrub, sweep, spray. Good riddance. But the roommate is yet to be seen.
The new place could not be that bad, really. Felt truly uncomfortable as I went about assembling my computer table, being looked on closely by my parents (who barked instructions at me every now and then) and a housemate. They knew I did not want them to help me though, and somehow, I am proud of that fact. They actually know me!
He brought up the remaining boards for the table by himself. It breaks my heart so to see him do it. He should not have done that. I will try to make sure he does not carry heavy loads like that again, as long as I am alive.
I am so not amused by that brief Matrix advertisment from the local television station NTV7. I do not like P.O.D.’s ‘Sleeping Awake’ video either.
Yep, I am that hard to please.