I know, I know--I haven't blogged in a while, I'm a terrible person, everyone hates me, I'm gonna make sure to take a hot bath when I slit my wrists later on tonight, etc. I promise not to go so long between posts, henceforth. Fo' realz.
Something worth recounting: a week or two ago, it somehow came to my attention that I hadn't taken a shower in a few days. To be explicit: it was a Saturday when I realized my hygiene was lacking, somewhat--that is, there had been no shower since the previous Tuesday night. Unthinkingly, I voiced this epiphany aloud to my two roommates, Kayla and Allie, who happened to be sitting in the living room with me. Audrey was not home at the time, which I soon realized was a very good thing, once I saw how big of a deal Allie and Kay were making of my lack of recent shower time. Audge, I figured, probably would have manhandled me into the shower, fully dressed, within seconds, had she been present. I reassured the now thoroughly disgusted Kayla and Allie that I'd be taking a shower that night, for sure, and then continued on my merry way for the rest of the day. Really, it wasn't that much of a merry way, though, because I had to do laundry. (Side note: I don't think I can adequately describe how much I absolutely HATE doing laundry here in the city. I have a running list of Things That Once I Have Procured I Will Know That I Have Become Moderately Successful In The City of New York, and Sending Out My Laundry is near the top of the list.) (Other list items, you ask? A doorman; a dog; and enough money for regular taxi fare.) On one of my return trips to the apartment from the laundry room, I found the door locked. And though I used my key to successfully unlock the bottom outside lock of the door, I still could not open it, due to the fact that the inside top lock was in place. This, I immediately saw, was the work of the dastardly Audrey. She had arrived home, and someone had filled her in on my lack of showering. Sure enough, when I knocked on the door, Audrey announced that she was not letting me inside.
"Nope!" she singsonged annoyingly. "I'm not letting you inside until you promise to take a shower! You dirty girl."
Now, I don't think it will be any great revelation here for me to say that I am, at best, a very stubborn person. (And, at worst, very similar to a...mule. In my...determination.) If someone tells me to do or think something, I will most assuredly do the very opposite, simply because I do not like being bossed around. (It is I who gets to dish out the orders, thank you, a personality characteristic formed comparatively late in my life, owing to my being the oft-quieted and horribly ordered-about middle child.) So even though I fully intended to take a shower in the very near future, I refused to give Audrey the satisfaction of thinking that I was succumbing to her completely unnecessary bossiness.
"NO!" I yelled, from outside the door. "I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU! YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!"
"Well, then, you're not getting inside," Audrey responded infuriatingly from directly inside. "Not until you promise to stop being so dirty."
More jiggling of the doorknob ensued on my part, followed by repeated fist-poundings and hand slaps administered to the door itself. I am not proud to admit that there may also have been foot-stomping, whimpering, screaming, and--eventually--the sight of me, crouched on the floor, back against the door, feet stamping incessantly, yelling my fool head off. Audrey finally let me back inside, probably because she feared that a neighbor would soon call the cops, but I made sure to let her know that I was only taking a shower because I wanted to. And NOT because she told me I had to.
Lesson learned? Stubbornness will still get you everything. Duh.
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