The Den of Slack

Another post devoted to bemoaning the sorry state of my habitat. Sorry. I guess I'm just procrastinating about going in to university on a Saturday to photocopy a small rainforest worth of paper. But there are certain things 'going down' in Brunswick at the moment that are playing on my mind.

Karin and Clarke are moving out today. Horray, but not - this practically decimates the female population of the house. Although Karin can be a rather painful person to be around, our collective femaleness I think helps calm down the absolute testosterone that is otherwise bouncing around in here. I fear my inner-city home is about to become the ultimate den of slack - the bachelor pad.

For a week and a half, I have been either at my Dad's house or at my Mom's, generally being the annoying grown-up offspring who comes home and lives in their pajamas, makes a mess in their old room, sleeps till noon, eats everything in sight and responds in monosyllabic grunts. Needing to gather some materials for a research assignment, I had to venture back last night. On my homecoming I was greeted by a half-metre high pile of dishes and a house full of blowflies. No, I'm not talking about my housemates, I'm talking about the abnormally big, loud scary black flies that seem to be attracted by filth in it's many incarnations.
The thought of frequenting the common areas much longer was too much to bear, so I retreated to my room. The horror! Underneath my half-open window was grit and dust, which was strange. Then I noticed some grey feathers laying around near my door. A pigeon was in my room!

Of course, I couldn't bare to sleep in there. What if it was still in there, hiding somewhere? What if it hadn't been able to figure out the escape route and had crawled somewhere to die? All these thoughts were running through my head, and I felt physically uneasy just being in the room. I despise pigeons, a lot. They're so creepy and disease-ridden and weird. There are so many of them in the city, they are the worst kind of vermin. Like rats with wings.
So I was too scared to sleep in there - I had to sleep on the couch. Joy.

Upon waking up, I could see even more grossness that I wasn't able to quite discern in nighttime light. I couldn't find a clean spot on the bench to put my glass this morning as I was pouring juice. Argh!

So I'm apartment looking. And I'm looking for one cheap enough that I can afford it whether or not Lucien goes in with me.