Damn! Roommate Andrew
Wakes up first, sneaks in shower:
It’s seven thirty
The GOTrain cometh;
While water pours down on him,
My armpits still reek
Blue towel, bone dry
Chafes my bum and time ticks by
Drip, drip… door opens
Wash, brush, lenses, clothes
Pull on flip-flops for the race:
Six minutes, three blocks
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
Lights flash, bars drop, brakes scream – train!
Bless you, ten-ride pass
Hold on a second –
Where the hell are my house keys?
Fuck, I hate rushing.
Not quite the same as living at Bloor & Spadina, izzit?
Less convenient perhaps, but I assure you it has its perks (and I’m not just talking about the garden, toys and wet bar).
Plus, we will have two bathrooms soon, and then there won’t be any more of this morning rush nonsense.
The joys of living
With one’s soulmate far outweigh
The inconvenience
How’s it going with the bathroom, anyway? Will it be functional for the 15th?
Also, in a moving-update, I don’t think I’ll need to work on Saturday now (yay!). Does it make sense for me to steal Mom’s CRV and use it to help in the move?
C
Alas, I begin to fear the bathroom will never be finished.
No, no. That’s just the despair talking: pay it no mind.
But seriously, after tonight’s final push to get everything packed at my old place, Mum and Justin and I will be making the final pilgrimage up to Olympia Tile to pick out the flooring.
The shower and tub should be installed in the next day or two, then it’s just toilet, sink, new air inlet pipe, new closet, floor installation, drywalling, towel & TP racks, sunken ceiling lights, and paint.
Piece of cake. It’ll be done in no time.
*sob*
You can ask Greg (our friend and occasional plumber) what the timeline is when we’re all lifting boxes together on Saturday morning. Tell him you have Crohn’s disease or something and impress on him that it is imperative that he finish the john ASAP so you can visit more often. Or not. Greg’s actually quite a nice guy, so maybe not so much with depicting yourself falsely as someone with severe incontinence.
Ah yes, the morning rush. How I love it. How I want to kill myself when the alarm goes off at 5:30am. And and I can’t tell you the number of mornings I’ve done the Go Train sprint right across the parking lot in Burlington.
Fortunately, C knows better than to get up and mess up my morning routine in the bathroom. It’s a well-choreographed ballet for one, and if there’s another dancer, someone gets their ankle broken.
The bathroom will be finished, the bathroom will be finished, the bathroom will be finished.