Don't Answer The Door

Even though I made it clear (or so I thought) that I wanted to spend the weekend alone just relaxing around my flat sitting in my underwear, snacking, sleeping, and watching the telly I was awakened from my sleep by the sound of my doorbell ringing. I tried to ignore it, but someone was continuously pushing the button. The sound startles my cats and sends them flying around the room and pouncing on me until I get up and open the door and let out a pissed off "What the hell?" At this point I realize I answered the door in my underwear, but it turns out it was only Hamish and thankfully not some little girl scout selling cookies.


Did you ever have one of those friends that just won't go away? Well, that is Hamish. As I crawled back under the blanket on my couch to go back to sleep he sits in the chair nearby talking of what he wants "us" to do today. I quickly reminded him that 'us" isn't doing anything today because "I" am already doing what I want to do for the day. No sooner had I finished stating this, my doorbell rings again. Hamish answers the door and I watch as our friend Jillian walks in with two of her guy friends. They just walk right in talking and laughing as if its the middle of the afternoon.


Apparently they have been invited to meet at my place because we're all doing breakfast. At this point I'm barely awake, very tired, and now pissed off as they begin to question Hamish on why I'm not ready. To which he replies I'm just running late and I correct him by stating I'm not going.


Ignoring all of this, my friend Jillian sits on the couch next to me and starts talking to everyone about this guy she met last night. As she mentions this, one of her guy friends squeals with delight and the other wants to know the details which she happily tells. I quickly realize they are not only friends of Jillian, but friends of Dorothy as well if you know what I mean. Now, I like Jillian and normally would be supportive of her and listen to her story of last night, but its early morning, my space has been invaded and I'm just staring at Hamish thinking what the fuck? Just minutes ago I was sound asleep.


Noticing my irritation Hamish says something about how he promised Gareth he wasn't going to let me mope around the house being depressed. I told him I'm not moping and I'm not depressed. He replied oh yeah, you ate half a pan of brownies since yesterday, that's depressing. Not feeling like arguing about my mood and the thought of brownies actually made me realize I was hungry, I wrapped the blanket around me and got up from couch and headed to the bathroom. As I walked by Hamish I told him I hated him and that I was changing my phone number so he can't call me anymore. He calmly replied in his Scotch-Irish accent "Jest make sure ye shave when ye take a shower, you look like a terrorist." So much for growing a beard.


Now, I'm back home, alone. Breakfast was actually fun, we had some good laughs. I even got my dishes washed by Jillian and Hamish as I got a shower. Although I did notice they ate most of my brownies! Now I can crawl back under the covers and relax and enjoy a peaceful, sleepy Sunday afterall.