I’m getting super distracted from my essay because it sounds like one of my suitemates is having loud, expressive phonesex in the common room, just a thin wall away from my desk…
Actual conversation with my parents.
- Mister: I meant that it wasn't *not* in our house.
- Lady: Whichever house it's in.
- Mister: Right.
- Caitlin: Sounds like a first world problem right there, not knowing which house your stuff is in...
Kids downstairs are having a party, and they started blasting Elvis.
Apparently Chapter One was all echoes and gross.