Mondays with Self.

22 10 2007

Self: So you had a pretty good weekend, huh?

Me: Sure did.

Self: Tired again, I see.

Me: Eh, yeah. I guess so. Why?

Self: ‘Cause you’re not doing anything.

Me: I know. It’s Monday afternoon. So?

Self: This is becoming a routine for you and it doesn’t matter if it’s Monday. For all I know, I could have just walked in and seen you sitting here on the couch, and it could have been a Tuesday or a Thursday or a Sunday morning.

Me: What’s your point?

Self: Don’t you do anything?

Me: Of course I do stuff.

Self: Name the last three days you came home and did something.

Me: Uh, okay. Today: walked in and did the laundry. Today: walked in and unpacked my bags from the trip. Today: walked in and took out the trash.

Self: Wrong.

Me: Why?

Self: You planned on taking out the trash. You still haven’t done it yet.

Me: Alright, well, I did two things today immediately upon walking in the door.


Self: So? Are you going to take out the trash?

Me: Dude, seriously. Give me a break. I just walked in. Let me have a moment or two.

Self: I can’t. If I don’t get on you right away you won’t do it.

Me: That’s not true!

Self: Oh no? [pause, sly grin.] How long has the lightbulb been out in the living room?

Me: That doesn’t count.

Self: Just answer the question. How long has it been out?

Me: Since May.

Self: And the one in the dining room just went out too, right?

Me: Yes.

Self: And when was that?

Me: Friday.

Self: So now the entire front of your apartment is pitch black after 6pm.

Me: No, not entirely.  There are other lights in other rooms. I can survive.

Self: Well I can’t, especially when I can’t fucking see where I’m going in your house at night. Tripping over wires and bags and all your shit lying around. Didn’t you get back from Pouso da Cajaiba like two weeks ago?

Me: [silence]

Self: And isn’t your bag still out there on the floor?

Me: Yes, but it’s empty. I took out all the stuff from it.

Self: That doesn’t matter. The point is, you leave your shit everywhere and because you also don’t take the initiative to change the lightbulbs after what could be five entire months, I’m left to trip over the mess.

Me: I said that the lightbulbs didn’t count. The ceilings are too high. I can’t reach the bulb.
Self:  So call someone.

Me: I’m not going to call someone just to change a fucking light bulb. How pathetic is that?

Self: Right, just like it’s not pathetic to be feeling around the walls and using candles to get through your living room. Not pathetic at all.

Me: Listen, I’ve got a plan.

Self: What’s your plan.

Me:  Dennis is going to be here.

Self: Saturday, yeah, I know.

Me: I’ve been trying to decide if he’ll be tall enough to reach the light bulb.

Self: And if not?

Me: I don’t know. Plan B.

Self: What’s Plan B?

Me:  Well, it’s primarily getting you to shut the fuck up so Dennis and I can live in peace. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll call someone.

[stunned silence]

Self: [humph] Well. That was unnecessary.

Me: Hm. Much like you.




11 responses

22 10 2007

Ha! Best Self conversation ever.

22 10 2007

Ms.C this is awesome! I dont know wats the funniest one. Both of you are awesome!!

22 10 2007

puxa sacooo

22 10 2007

It really is awesome and really funny!!!!!!

22 10 2007

You’re very funny. Hilarious, in fact.
But why don’t you just get a chair and change the lightbulb? Or why don’t you clog your toilet, or your sink, and call a cute, strong, tall plumber and when he’s leaving and you’ve spent the whole un-clogging time talking to him, you ask him if he can please change the lightbulb for you? Much easier than waiting till Saturday.
What’s the big deal about leaving your bag on the floor if there’s nothing in it? Tell Self that she’s a bit of a pain in the ***. What’s the point of putting it away if you’re gonna use it again eventually?

And Cogg, it was really you that sent that email about the address, right? Because I don’t want to be too trusting and accidentally send my address and age to some serial rapist/killer who is going to hunt me down and…well, rape and kill me. And why do you want my address and age? Does it have anything to do with the nice-stuff-about-your-classmates paper that we each did?


22 10 2007

I agree; Self is funny but a jerk, so we should all like her but like Me more.

Sofy, yes, I really wrote that e-mail about your address because I need it for something. And as far as getting a cute plumber to fix the light bulb, I’m not sure Dennis would go for that. And listen, I’ve been living with Self for years and have had no luck with telling her she’s an ***, so go ahead and have at it. It’s like talking to a wall with her. Good luck.

22 10 2007

Okay. Sending the email.
I can tell Self she’s an ***? To her face? Really?


23 10 2007

Well, on second thought, I’ll just pass that message along to her from you. She’s lazy and doesn’t go to work, so it’s not likely you’ll see her at all.

23 10 2007

What something Ms.C?

I’m not the only one thats curious, i bet sofy is too, right sofy? Tell me that you’re also curious.

Its unfair, you are one evil teacher… Why would you, a teacher want a student’s address? Its not normal.


25 10 2007

Just leave the lightbulbs until Dennis gets there. Men like to feel useful, you know.

25 10 2007

Ha! See, that was my plan the whole time. Thank you for supporting Me, Harold! 🙂

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