she's seen her share of devils

i come to the land of the living with only the maximum of effort, dragging my eyes open and wondering why i can't just die.

in stead of dying, i drift over to the coffee maker, and while on auto pilot i manage somehow to make coffee without falling forward, flat on my face or slumping to the ground like a narcoleptic might in this situation.

when my coffee feat is accomplished, i crawl back into bed, waiting for said nectar to be brewed.

"meaghan umublens owers ded han haitlin avvvit?" i think kate is trying to say something i grunt in response.

"well?" she sounds slightly impatient. "i left her a note, can she have the rest of that shower head?"

we share a bathrooom with a second year humanties student, and she brought her own shower head for the shower. it's just one of those cheap ones, that you screw on and is held in place in a plastic holder when it isn't hanging on its lengthy hose. in december, the holder for it broke, and kate tried to fix it. it didn't work. instead it just gave it this lumpy guilty look. so we bought a new shower head, and stuck the new holder on the old shower head.

problem is, we never fessed up to caitlin, the bathroom mate. i told kate she had to, since she was the one who made the original lumpy with glue and because i had stuck the new holder on.

looks like caitlin finally has her confession, even though she already knew what had happened.

"i don't care!" i bemoan my fate of having to get up this early, even though it's not really early at all. "she can have it if she wants!"

because really, what am i going to do with a shower head and a hose?