Apparently, if you don’t have a weird flat mate, you are the weird flat mate. I hope not.
For too long, I have been working on an essay. About Slugs. This slug essay is doing my head in.
Did you know that slugs can digest paper? Well now you do. I love actually doing horticulture, but I don’t like the paperworky learning part.
I’m not busking this weekend. All the tubes in my face are full of goo (kind of like a Slug), so trying to play my flute would be a messy exercise in pointlessness.
Tonight My flatmate had a party. It started fairly quiet when I went to bed. By 3am it sounded like they were acting out a goddamn musical in the kitchen.
I wasn’t sleeping anyway because of all the goo in my sinuses. I had three options:
Ignore the noise and carry on not sleeping
Tell them to be quiet and not sleep in peace
The beat of the music and hand clapping was kind of catchy, so I joined them in the kitchen with some egg maracas from my box of music stuff.
By then they were so drunk, they thought that egg maracas were the best thing ever.
One of the people there had created some of the music playing. It was pretty good stuff. Nice people. I tried to shake as few hands as possible because of germs, and made some friends that I wouldn’t have otherwise.