New Quarters

I'm not talking about money.
Guess where I'm sleeping tonight.
At the fun house funeral home.
Guess why.
Read this next part really fast just for kicks.
Trust me, it sounds better inside your head that way.
And imagine the voice that's saying it is really southern.
K?
Here goes.
Cuz I got a horrible gas leak and I almost woke up at work instead of coming to work because last night before I went to bed I almost left the gas logs on and went to sleep but I got up to turn them off because I was afraid that the extra heat would catch my couch (lovely couch!) on fire and then burn our  house stupid apartment where 8 dogs live upstairs nice apartment down but instead I might have prevented us from dying in our sleep of carbon monoxide poisoning!
Whew!
Out of breath now.
And that's quite a string of prepositional phrases.
OK, fast story slower.
The roommate came home from work, smelled gas, called landlady, no answer.
Proceded to hunt down call maintenance man.
Maintenance man arrives, says, "Ya gotta gas leak!", procedes to shut off gas, pops back in his truck with his lady friend and speeds away.
OK.
Now what?
Roommate decides maybe still not safe to breathe there, packs up my dog and since I gotta be on call for the "Hotel California" tonight, I'm sleeping at work.
In the dorm.
On one of the old twin beds.
Excellent.
I don't mind sleeping here, but I'd rather be at home sleeping in my bed because I KNOW whose cooties are in that mattress--mine!
And I gotta get ready for school here in the morning.
And Boots' grandma died last night.
Which really sucks.
I never even knew the lady.
He cried.
Which was really sad but I can't wait to see him cry Wednesday at her funeral.
I want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze him and love on him.
Is that wrong that I'm eagerly anticipating seeing the boyfriend cry?
It just occurred to me that I might be a tad bit excited.
Geez Louise, what kind of sicko am I?
Oh!
Aaaaaaaaannnnnndddddd......I'm up to 9 followers!
Yay me!