Roommate for sale

Have you ever been excited about that online order that you made? You know the feeling I’m talking about. You ordered those fabulous heels, that were meant to be yours and yours alone. Or that designer handbag that you paid a little too much for…

You’re going to be eating ramen noodles, peanut butter, and crackers for the next month. But it’s all worth, once it’s swinging on your arm. Every woman understands that blissful moment.

Imagine you’re having a shitty day. Nothing has gone right. Not even the wine I suggest that you drink while reading this blog would make this day better.

Until… You hear a ping, ring, chime, or whichever alert you have for incoming email. You check, and lo and behold your package is being delivered today! Yes, literally bliss in a box will be on your doorstep when you arrive home. The shitty day, is looking up! Maybe the wine can help now.

While shopping for wine and triple fudge brownies with extra fudge icing after the shitty day. It’s therapeutic and was much needed. I receive a phone call from my roomie. The conservation is as follows:

Roomie: Hey, how are you?

Me: I’m picking up booze and refined sugar. Need I say more?

R: Say no more, I understand. But I have a question.

M: Shoot.

R: If you had a surprise at the door, would you want to know? Or would you like to be surprised?

M: Well, number one if I did want it to be a surprise, all of the surprise is gone now. Due to the fact that I don’t think the question is hypothetical. Pretty positive there’s a surprise for me. Because you just told me.

R: Do you want a picture of your surprise?

Pause for inner monologue: WHAT THE HELL? Why do I want a picture of a box? Especially when I was informed via email that my package was delivered.

M: Thank you for offering. But no, I do not need a picture of my surprise. I’m expecting a package. So, I know what it is. There’s no need for a picture of the box.

R: Are you sure you don’t want a picture?

M: Yes, I’m positive. Unless it’s a extra special package. Is it covered in sequins? Is it polka dotted? Does it have a large bow? Is it just so gorgeous a picture is deserved?

Pause for inner monologue: Why is she asking about a plain damn box? It’s a box! Most likely white or brown with packaging tape. Why do I need a picture of packaging tape?

R: Okay, I’ll just bring in the surprise. Are you coming home tonight?

M: Yes, I’m coming home later. I’ll see the surprise then.

Pause for inner monologue: I’m speaking about a box that isn’t a surprise. Why are we still talking about a stupid box! She doesn’t even know what’s in the box! It’s actually more of a surprise for her than me. She didn’t know about the package or what’s in it. For all she knows there are sequins, polka dots, and bows in the damn box! Maybe even glitter too!

R: Ok, I’ll see you later.

So, I arrive home. It’s dark. I go straight into my room. I look on my bed for my surprise. No box, no sequins, no bows, nothing. I think after all that fuss, where’s my fucking box! Or excuse me, my surprise.

I get comfy, change clothes, eat some of my brownies. Then my roomie comes bouncing into my room.

“Have you seen your flowers?”

Pause for inner monologue: WHAT THE FUCK? What do you mean, MY flowers? WHERE’S MY GOD DAMN BOX? My package filled with bliss! WHERE IS IT? OH SHIT, WAIT did she say I got FLOWERS?

“Flowers? What flowers? I’m confused.”

Roomie turns on the lights, leads me to the kitchen, TA DA flowers are sitting on the counter…

By the way I’ve been eating in my bedroom instead of the kitchen. Remember my shitty day. The wine is on my dresser, next to brownies and extra fudge icing.

OH MY GOD! I GOT FLOWERS! But the surprise was still RUINED because roomie gave it away! So her initial question still didn’t help.

My shitty day has now gotten BETTER. Minus the whole ruined surprise part. I read the card. It’s so sweet, loving, adorable. I’m a HAPPY camper.

During my BLISS that didn’t come from a BOX moment, I read my card to roomie. Hoping she’ll share in my bliss. Alas, the blissful without a box moment is dashed a little. When roomie decided to critique my card! Saying the terminology could have been better.

Pause for inner monologue: Are you fucking serious right now? Roomie aka surprise killer is WAY beyond raining on my parade. A category 4 hurricane just blew thru our place AND it took all hopes of sequins, polka dots, bows, and glitter with it.

I take my “surprise”, oh wait my bad my I WISH it could have been a surprise flowers to my room. Grab my wine, brownies, crack open the fudgy icing, light a candle and look at my flowers.

Open my email, check the tracking number for my actual package. It’s real location, it’s at my local mail carrier office. They are delivering it tomorrow.

Due to a delay…

Helpful hint: Life is always better with a closet full of sequins, polka dots, bows, and glitter.

© southerngabunny