I slept too deeply last night, the kind of dead-to-the-world that happens when you are overly exhausted or getting sick or maybe both. When I first woke up, it was sunny outside, and I reached over from under the covers to open one set of blinds and let the light stream in.
But then by the time I got up, it was raining. Not just Pacific Northwest sprinkling, but really raining. It got very dark outside. There may have even been thunder, which is really unusual here, but I can't be certain because I was in the shower and there was noise of water.
I have pretty much settled my mind that I will do nothing today. My throat feels scratchy. It's almost Thanksgiving. It rained most of the day. That seems like excuse enough to do nothing but putter: clean my room, do the dishes, put the fabric shower curtain back up after my roommate washed it yesterday.
So that is nice.
...
Last night, I came home from walking to the store, and my roommate's friend was in the kitchen making ice before they left for a party. She spilled some water on the floor as she put the ice cube tray back in the freezer. "Oops!" she said. She took a towel, threw it on the floor, and rubbed it around with her shoe.
Then she folded it and set it back on the counter.
"Did you just use that towel on the floor and then put it back where we might use it?" I asked. "What if I dry a dish with that?"
"It'll be fine once it dries," she said.
That is... not my opinion of the situation at all.
We finally persuaded her to drop it over there on the floor so that the next time one of us does laundry, we can throw it in.
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