Under the Sink

Last night living-in-sin roommate, Rebecca, and I returned home from Seder. (We apparently think we're Jewish. Shalom!).

It was late and I just wanted to go to bed. You guys. I need to tell you something that isn't a very nice thing to say. Sometimes it's kind of hard to live with Rebecca.

Don't get me wrong. Rebecca is the best roommate I've ever had.

BESIDES DANIEL OF COURSE!

Let's everybody calm down. I feel so on edge when I make references to Daniel because I know I'll suffer the wrath of the Strangers if anything I say could be construed as an attack on him. This is the first time I've ever seen a grown man have tens-of-thousands of protective mothers all at once. AND I'M JEALOUS!

Anyway, the reason it's sort of difficult to live with Rebecca is because homegirl be talkin' ALL THE TIME. I make no exaggerations here. Rebecca has something to say every second of every day of every week of every month of every year for time and all eternity.

I'm serious. Rebecca's Zodiac sign is just the eternity symbol.

She tried to write a book once but she typed so much that it knocked out all of the electricity in four neighboring counties.

Twice up the barrel, once down the side.

As you might have guessed if you've ever read Stranger before, Eli also be talkin' all the time. What this means is that Eli and Rebecca living together is a constant gabfest. And this has cut significantly into my precious three hours of sleep a night.

When I lived with Daniel I didn't really have this problem. I would talk and talk and talk and Daniel would sit in the corner of the room reading a book and mostly ignoring me until my own talking put me to sleep. But Rebecca and I think we're Regis and Kathie Lee. Except we don't keep it to an hour.

I tried to draw the line last night when we got home from Seder.

Eli: NO TALKING TONIGHT! GO TO BED!

Rebecca: Ok, but I just have one quick thing to say first.

Eli: NO!

Rebecca: But--

Eli: NO, Rebecca. Go to bed. I just sat through six hours of Hebrew prayers. We are not going to spend another six hours talking about it.

I was proud of myself when I shut my bedroom door with an expectation of climbing into bed within the next five minutes. Then I walked into my bathroom and stepped into a puddle.

I noticed that there was a small waterfall pouring out through the cupboards under the sink. Against my better judgment, I opened them. I keep a large pile of clean towels under there (in case the queen the comes) and it was clear that these towels had been absorbing a slow leak for many days.

Then I saw it. Something that plagued my soul for one year while I lived on the Equator. Something that plagued my soul in the Land of Coconuts, a place I sometimes not-so-lovingly refer to as "Hell on Earth." A place where the weather forecast every single day is just "HOT ALL OF THE TIME ALWAYS."

Mold.

Mold growing EVERYWHERE.

I had a thousand flashbacks to discovering mold on my clothes in the laundry basket and growing on food we bought the day before. I remembered the time that Daniel fed me a cookie that I didn't realize was covered in mold until after I took a bite out of it and felt it fall apart in my mouth. I remembered how that piece of chocolate cake that Leotrix left all over the floor not only had rat hair hanging from it, but also large grey moldy spots.

I burst into Rebecca's bedroom and dramatically explained the situation.

Rebecca sat in the bathroom with me NOT HELPING AT ALL as I tried to find the leak and clean up the mess. She just kept saying things like, "maybe you should just throw everything away," and "are we going to have to move?" and "do you think I would look good if I chopped my hair off?"

I performed the backbreaking labor that took me back to a much grosser time. A time when I had a constant stream of sweat dripping from every pore of my body. A time when I would wake up from the feeling of ants crawling on me. A time when I could actually wring out my sheets after one full night of half-sleep.

An hour later I finally shooed Rebecca away.

I dreamed for the next four hours about giant mole rats.

~It Just Gets Stranger