Sunday, yet I find myself in the Lockwood Library.
I figured that I'd go on and revise my paper for publication today, during the afternoon, as it would only take me half a day, and so I would get it over with and pass it on to my native-English-speaker-classmate-slash-fellow-grad-student who would then proofread it to check my stylistics. Well, no matter how good my English apparently is, it is still lacking since my not-so-anonymous reviewer advised me to ask a native English-speaker to check my work. By the way, the reason I said not-so-anonymous is because it is supposed to be anonymous, but then, the comments were sent to me in MS Word format, and although the editor sent it to me, not the reviewer, when I pointed my mouse towards the Word file, the properties suddenly appeared as a pop-up screen, and voila! I saw the author of the file! But then it doesn't matter anyway. Why would I be personal when I don't personally know the reviewer?
I only have one more week of class and an additional two weeks of stay here in Buffalo before I depart for Prague. I can't wait. Especially when you have a roommate that starts to act weird.
I haven't been ranting about my roommate for a while. But then something happened this past week that made me go uh-oh...
Yesterday, around 4:00 PM, I started vacuuming my room. It is his turn to vacuum the house. But then, he is rushing to catch the bus for the mall. So I hurriedly caught him and told him to vacuum the house, since it is his turn. I told him to do it once he gets back from the mall, after he bought his usual supply of microwaveable pizzas. So, after a long pause, he said yes.
When he got back, I again grabbed the opportunity to strike a conversation with him. I told him excitedly "One more week!" He just ignored me. Well, he was plugged in with his iPod, most probably listening to his collection of Bruce Springsteen. But then, he just swung by me as if I wasn't there! Now that was an uh-oh moment.
So I went up to my room, closed my door, and started my ironing, and I heard him start the vacuum cleaner and clean the first floor. When he was finished, he went up, and BANG! The sliding door which when opened, revealed the storage where we keep the vacuum cleaner and the boxes of some of our stuff just went with a thud! And since it was perpendicular to my room's wall, it just gave me the shudders.
Now, is he mad at me?
Well, there was just one thud. It was never repeated.
That's why I am excited to move out of my apartment and move into my new apartment next August, when I am alone, solo, and so I won't have the feeling of living with a total stranger. We never connected. We were never friends, not even acquaintances. And here are the reasons, at least, from my point of view.
He is ten years older than me. I am 23, he is 33. His interests are different from mine. He shows no hint of being responsible. He doesn't know how to take care of the house, let alone clean the toilet that he is using. The weird thing is that I feel like I am the adult in the house and he is the over-grown child. I feel like I am living with a teenager stuck in the 80's. Well, I was a teen in the 90's, and since he is 10 years older than me, that makes sense. All he does is listen to his iPod, and whenever he goes out, he plugs his ears with those white sound cords of his. But no regard for the house. He doesn't know how to cook. He doesn't take the initiative in vacuuming the house, if I don't vacuum, he won't. I am sick of it. I am sick of telling him what to do, and prodding him to do his share in the work.
But then, all I have to do is wait. Wait for three final weeks. Then it will be over. I won't have the feeling that I am sleeping with the enemy anymore.