Tonight, in between practice sessions, I popped over to my new place. I was accosted in the hallway by one of my many middle-aged, toothless, male neighbors (I assume something is wrong with the water here. I've had friends promise that if I start looking like a midddle-aged, toothless male, due to showering in/drinking the water here, they will make me move).
Accost is a strong word. He saw that I was bringing in a box of my exceedingly cheap wine and offered to buy me a drink at the local dive bar. I was taken aback and mumbled something about cello-playing across the street. The problem with mumbling an excuse is it sounds completely fake and rude even if it's 100% true. So. Now. I'm still many months away from the end of my lease and I have one neighbor a few doors down that promises months of awkward encounters. Alas.
It is a good thing that I practice across the street until bizarre hours (last night I was there until 1:30 a.m.). And while I'm currently listening to the concerto I have to learn this summer, I realize I have at least 60 pages of articles to read, a three page paper to write by this weekend, and that it's time to put my new couch to use as a place to hold my butt while I do homework. Sigh. School...
An Erinku:
couches
as butt-holders
it's funny
every time
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