I've been having a rough time so far this year. This year has involved a lot of phoning around and finding doctors and duking it out with insurance companies and then finding other doctors that the insurance companies like better only to find that I don't like the doctors that the insurance companies prefer...
I'm not good at dealing with this stuff. It makes me cranky and depressed. Which is where the frat boys come in.
When I'm cranky and depressed, I become haunted by an extremely dissipated college fraternity. They sneak into my house while I'm not looking and carry on in the most disrespectful fashion you can imagine. They throw all the clothes I don't want to wear on the floor of my closet. Anything that I would imagine wearing ends up on my bed or liberally strewn around my bedroom floor. They take out every book I've ever read and appear to play some kind of drinking game that involves hurling the books at random at my nightstand, so that an enormous pile of books rests on its surface in an undignified, higgledy-piggledy mess. The books cascade into the open nightstand drawers as though trying to escape.
I don't even want to tell you what they do in the kitchen. They leave spoiled food in my refrigerator. They spill tea and coffee on my countertops and don't clean it up. They leave huge piles of dishes in the sink and pizza boxes everywhere. They make vast quantities of popcorn and gorge themselves in the living room, until every large bowl in the house contains a thin layer of salt and a few popcorn hulls.
They pick up my mail and sort it into piles that don't make any sense, and then leave the piles wherever they're standing and go and make more piles of mail in a different part of the house. Since most of the flat surfaces in the home are covered with dirty dishes or glassware, the mail is usually on the floor.
Needless to say they don't often clean the shower or the sinks, and the only thing in the house they haven't moved when I wasn't looking is the vacuum cleaner. Occasionally I get up the energy to clear a surface or do a load of dishes or laundry, but not often enough to combat the swirling entropy that has conquered my home.
I have made great strides this day in overcoming their obscene attempts to force me to live in squalor. As I write every dish in the house is either clean or in the running dishwasher. The refrigerator contains only food and drink that is fit for human consumption. Most of the laundry is done. Most of the clothes are hung up and put away. The shower is clean. I have even restored the stove to its former glory (someone allowed rice milk to boil over on the gas stove--it looked like something out of How Clean Is Your House).
I'm really hoping that they'll have pity on me and keep their cavorting to a minimum from now on. I'd evict them, but I'm too embarrassed to have the police come by and look at the damage.