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THIS is why I don't vacuum on time.
A bad thing: listening to the beginning of the third overtime on the radio, headed home, and hearing Paul God Damn Kariya scoring the sudden-death game-winner for Anaheim. Though I'm wearing the requisite Red Wings apparel, I chose to go to my stupid RPG session instead of staying home, hanging on every play, and lighting the official and moderately sacreligious Playoff Candle, so in psycho superstitious fan terms, this is All My Fault.
A worse thing: Arriving home to my three irritating roommates, their drunken irritating friends, arguing about goaltenders when tonight's game, the first of the playoffs, is also the first they've watched SINCE LAST SEASON'S PLAYOFFS. Playing "Freebird" so loud we could hear it from the parking lot, nevermind my bedroom with the door closed.
Interestingly, my zero-eye-contact you're-not-here-if-I-don't-acknowledge-you trip to the kitchen to get a glass of water and a pint of ice cream seems to have been directly linked to the stereo being shut off, so now it's just inebriated arguing and the Vancouver game to deal with.
Hate them. Hate them LOTS.
A worse thing: Arriving home to my three irritating roommates, their drunken irritating friends, arguing about goaltenders when tonight's game, the first of the playoffs, is also the first they've watched SINCE LAST SEASON'S PLAYOFFS. Playing "Freebird" so loud we could hear it from the parking lot, nevermind my bedroom with the door closed.
Interestingly, my zero-eye-contact you're-not-here-if-I-don't-acknowledge-you trip to the kitchen to get a glass of water and a pint of ice cream seems to have been directly linked to the stereo being shut off, so now it's just inebriated arguing and the Vancouver game to deal with.
Hate them. Hate them LOTS.