Last Friday, it rained. It rained while I worked my first shift at the A.R.T. It rained while I waited for the 86 bus in Harvard Square. It rained while I continued to wait for the 86 bus. It rained all night. Needless to say, it was inevitable that I'd transform into a drowned rat on a night like Friday. As I've mentioned before, I love storms; however, on this particular evening, the storm did not live up to my standards and I simply wanted to be home, cozy in pajamas with a glass of wine in hand. The bus disagreed with this thought process.
As I waited thirty five minutes for my ride home, I became more and more frustrated. My roommates were home and I was not. I wanted to join the fun taking place in our dry, warm apartment which involved mindless television and Charles Shaw's finest cabernet. Unfair. At 11:45, I sloshed through the door wearing the most haggard of haggard looks and dragged with me every possible rain-soaked leaf in the neighborhood. My look immediately dissipated when I saw what was before me: a glass of red wine and chocolate-covered cookies. Adam, Jill, and Matt peered from around the corner grinning. It's official: I have, hands down, the best roommates.
No comments:
Post a Comment