More on My House, or: Moron, My House

Last night, I went to bed a bit earlier than the rest of this week. I actually feel refreshed and ready to go this morning. I'm sort of dreading it being Friday. I've no idea what I'm gonna do this weekend.

Anyway, upon waking up, I decided on French press coffee. I got my press and kettle out of a box sitting on the floor in my room, went into the kitchen, and began heating water. While looking around, I decided I'd take some photos of the house so you could get sort of a vibe for what my situation's like.

I was just snapping photos, and a lot of them ended up a little blurry. If anything, that enhances the picture, bringing you a bit closer to what I perceive as reality. Also, you can click on any picture to see it much bigger. 

That's the living room. The banister to the left leads down half a flight of stairs to the front door, then down another half flight of stairs to the downstairs rooms and where the shower's at. There's a bathroom near my room, but it's a toilet and a tub, no shower.

More living room. Looks comfortable, doesn't it? Buddha, by the way, could stand to miss a few meals. Oh, I kid. I don't want to offend anybody's deeply held religious beliefs. But seriously, he's a tubby bastard.

What you don't see is the piece of butcher paper tacked to the celling, presumably to protect it from the candles. If I die in a fire, this is why.

I think this is when Lacey, my coworker who helped me move, decided the place was decorated by the guy's mom. That water bottle on the right has been there since I moved in. I don't think it's Mom's.

The dining room and mail. There's not a lot to say about it. I almost didn't include this picture; I kept it in because it's part of the larger living room area.

The kitchen. See that room in the back? Laundry's there. So is the kitchen trash can. Makes no sense to me.

This photo doesn't convey how filthy the table is. Junk is just caked on it. It looks like the table after a bunch of 12-year-old boys had dessert. It's been like this since I moved in. Also, what's up with the inexplicable toddler's chair? 

This is the primary countertop in this kitchen. I found 409, but no towels. It's gross. I don't want to set anything on it. I think I'll probably go buy a cutting board, not for cutting, but for setting my things on while preparing food, insulating it from the filth and grossness of the counter itself.

Ironically, the stove says, "self cleaning," on it. I think it's mistaken in much the same way as the the guy in the zombie movie who says, "I think we're safe." We're not safe.