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You know the tune!

"Dashing through the 'hood
in a pair of too-tight shoes
Locked out of my house
Late and after dark! Ha ha ha!
How I meet room-mates
is always wacky fun
Never try to say hello
before I've had my food! Oh!

Jingle bells..." & etc.

Today coworker A. and I bonded over our broken mothers. It's comforting to realize that I'm not the only person who had to move out before she realized how pissed she was at her parents. And the raging trust issues! No, wait, that's just me.

Got a ride into work, but had to run errands after work, so I got home after 8. Which is when I 1.) met my new roommate, 2.) had to ring the bell and pound on the door of my own house to get in. I'll warm up to her after she stops locking me out and proves she won't break my dishes. Until then, I'm instituting Mean Girl Has Trust Issues Rules: no talking to me before I've had 15 minutes to decompress and have eaten something. Without talking to anyone. Blood sugar in check, I will mellow out and admit humanity might be worth my time.

There can be only one answer to my too-small shoes, sore toes, and general distress at the upset in the old order: hide in my room with Farscape!

Incidentally, I forgot how dark "Crackers Don't Matter" is. Forced feeding, sexual assault, friendly fire, evil antagonists in Hawaiian t-shirts, raging paranoia and remember - crackers don't matter. John Crichton: crazy, or insane?


ETA: Having eaten dinner and said a proper hello, new roomie appears actually human. I am mollified.

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