The first thing Saira said when she saw me working on this was "Is this one about the cabinet goblins?!?" I told her to shut up and cook something. I don't remember much after that. This is a fairly accurate representation of how my room looked before I began co-habitating with a female. I'm still less than neat, but she gives me gentle profane nudgings that hint at the order in which she would like to see her house. It is her house, too. Of that I have no doubt. She came home with pictures and drapes the other day, and asked how I liked them. I thought that was cute. She wanted to play-act that my opinion would alter the course of the tide of redecorating that has washed in since she finished with college. If I told her that I thought they looked hideous, I'm sure that she would have at least looked at me with some degree of pity, though. I am fairly positive that she would understand how difficult it is going to be for me to look at her things all day, every day, and there's not a god-damned thing I can do about it. 'Cause it's her fucking house. At least I get the computer room. Well, at least it's SOME kind of validation that I'm more than a swinging dick that pays half of the rent. Oh, and I kill spiders, too.
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