It's my first night cooking at home all week, and let's be real: I'm stoked. Not only is it cheaper, but it's delicious. And then I come home to Skinny Bitch's boyfriend unlocking our door with her key and a bag of groceries. Fantastic. Well, fuck you Skinny Bitch, I'm gonna use the kitchen too. I'm hella hungry, and since we don't talk, you didn't warn me. And since we don't talk, you didn't know you could have had him over any other night of the fucking week because I wasn't going to be here. So yeah, I'm gonna cook too.
And this is how you know she is hella weird: she stands awkwardly in the kitchen for awhile as her boyfriend and I make conversation (that she doesn't participate in), and then she leaves all together. And I am left in the kitchen with some guy I barely know talking about cooking and shit. About 45 minutes later when we are both done cooking he goes and gets her.
It's like that time I came home and she was watching a shitty movie on TV and when I sat down in the living room with her she switched it off and went to her room. What a weird fuck.
So ready to live elsewhere. Let's hope this conversation about the new apartment's lease goes off without a hitch on Monday.
P.S. It was really hard to avoid making passive aggressive little comments to her boyfriend about how much I hate living in this apartment. "I eat soup like every night because it's so cold here all the time", "Your job is the same as Skinny Bitch's? And what's that?"
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