Day 22: Is It Too Much To Ask?

Seems like a good day for the cardigan.

Okay, not quite. It's getting a little warm.

Eurgh who am I kidding.. It's fucking hot. I can never, pair my cardigan with the temperature.

Excuse me for boasting, but I'm extremely proud at my ability to create the dimple whenever I tie the full Windsor. I don't credit my dad for teaching me the technique, unfortunately. He tried to educate me on how to tie the half Windsor. We nearly murdered one another during breakfast that day. Ah sweet, sweet memories of my household.

Despite the pleasant day I've had, I wasn't at all pleased to enter my junkyard of a room. Really, is it too much to ask for you to clean your part of the room? Honestly, it's already been a month and you're practically not finished with your unpacking! And you tell me you come home stressed every night looking at it. Here's a solution: clean it up. Dude, it doesn't take that much of an effort. 15 minutes, tops. Half an hour, if need be. But hey, a semester of coming home to a neat space is meditation enough.

Forgive me for the second-person POV, it's supposed to be directed towards my roomie, and it was. Finally, one small corner of the room was cleaned up. Or should I say, conspicuously stashed behind the drawers. Is it possible to hide a bicycle behind a small dresser without me noticing it?

My roomie's a great kid, really. I mean he's given plenty to me and helped me on many an occasion. But if it's one thing I can't stand is being unable to distinguish the trash in your bin with your dirty laundry next to it. I absolutely do not want to view the other half of my room as inhospitable to the occasional guest. I suppose I should just be glad there isn't a peculiar stench emanating from the mess.

If it's any consolation, I used to be pretty messy too. But even then, the mess was organized. Picture this, my shelves couldn't fit all the books I owned so I placed them on the lower bunk of my bed. This is back in Malaysia, btw. Yes, it did look messy. But I had them arranged according to size and type. Even after a while, I got tired of seeing things piled up on my bed, so I got to rearranging and cramming everything into whatever space I had left in my drawers. I'm happy to say that my cupboards did not explode at this attempt. But the result was relaxing. The sight of empty space is paradoxically fulfilling. Most importantly, it took me only a quarter of an hour.

My dearest roommate, I implore you, please, purify your crash pad. Know that I will be eternally grateful.