“secretly i want to be in charge of women’s reproductive systems”
–joel
“from now on, people who leave their shit on the dining room table will have it removed.”
“how ’bout from now on, people who leave their shit on the dining room table will have their dicks removed?”
“that works too”
“wait, we should make that gender-inclusive …”
–barn convo in our NOW CLEAN common room (really! come see! it’s amazing)
came home to find our pipes murmuring HOT WATER. our sluggard landlord finally came thru. joel was in HouseCleaning mode — he can be impressively singleminded when he decides to be — he had singlehandedly made our common room and kitchen liveable again. after applauding him roundly, and disappearing to take a much-needed and much-enjoyed 20 minute shower (my hair today looked like the exxon-valdez disaster, like a fucking oil spill, like i’m saying you could see the spectrum in each individual strand, i’m not kidding, i had people following me all day b/c they were mesmerized the purty swirling colors) i attacked our mountain of dishes.
what a satisfying feeling. my hair is wet and calm against the back of my neck, the room around me is tidy and spacious, and we’re about to eat dinner. my film paper deadline has been extended. aimee mann is singing in the background. yes, all is right w/ the world.