I was talking to my friend, Chad, and he’s all like “I gotta get a bathroom designer in because my girl wants me to renovate the bathroom and I can’t design anything.”
To be honest, I don’t really have a girl at the moment, because Isa and I aren’t going steady anymore. Someday, some girl is going to ask me to remodel the bathroom or something and I’m not sure I’m ready. That’s commitment in a nutshell if I ever heard of it, because if you have a bathroom, you have a house. If you have a house, you have a life, and a mortgage, and if you have a life and a mortgage you have a wife, and if you have a wife you might even have kids, and now I need a paper bag to breathe into or whatever because that’s just terrifying. A mortgage…a bathroom to remodel, that I bought, with tons of money, and now I owe, like, the government tons of money. This is why Chad needs to stop coming to me with his problems, because we’re, like…at different stages of life, man. Like, he’s at his stage, where his girl is asking him to remodel the bathroom, and I’m playing video games until 4am every night, sitting on a beanbag because it’s the only piece of furniture I actually own. Well, that, and a kettle. I have to have my peppermint tea before I got to bed. It settles me.
Chad needs to go talk to one of his other friends. Like, maybe Chad, who just got married and he’s been posting on Visage-Tome about all their plans for the house, which probably include kitchen renovations. He’s probably in touch with all sorts of Melbourne kitchen designers, and conveyancers, and gardeners, and all the stuff that proper adults have. I rent on the fifth floor just so I don’t have to deal with any of that stuff.