Lately, the stories in my head haven't been quite as exciting as the world has been around me. House hunting is quite exciting though of the slightly-terrifying variety of exciting. I still haven't found out if my offer was accepted. There was a competing offer submitted so now I have to wait to see which of us gets the house. It's almost like being on a game show except, you know, my prize is paying a lot of money to buy a house. If I don't get that house, I want to put an offer in on the other one I saw that I mentioned yesterday. I keep thinking about that house and how I'd like to live there. Then I think about the house I did put an offer on and I realize I want to live there too. Thus, whatever happens, I think it'll work out the way it should.
Another thing that happened this week was earlier. I forgot to mention that in my blog but now I feel like I have to. Remember how I mentioned that the CEO was temporarily living above me? Well, she has a boyfriend who flies in from California fairly regularly. To be as tactful as possible, let's just say I don't necessarily know the boyfriend is in town until I hear him. When you're lying in bed and you suddenly hear the strange sounds of what seems to be a porno movie and then you realize that it's probably inches above your head when you stop to think about it and that steady thudding sound, you suddenly realize that now is a good time for the good old iPod. It's not that I have anything against couples having a good time but, well, it's my CEO. And it's a porno film above my head.
This, of course, would be nothing except for the fact that the other night, Sunday, I think it was, I had returned from my parents and as is typical, I was carrying a lot of stuff. Thus, in a very rare moment of forgetting to be obsessive-compulsive, I didn't check to see if my door is locked. Normally, I check it at least six times an evening. This time, I didn't. I live in a safe building. In spite of the frat boys being a little loud at times, it's fairly quiet and peaceful. Especially now the boy-who-shouts-at-his-girlfriend-on-the-phone has seemingly moved out. Thus, on the rare occasion that I do forget to lock my door, it's not likely to cause major crime.
Anyway, a little later that evening I sat on the couch in my pajamas watching the DVD of Iron Chef that I'd rented from Netflix because I'm currently obsessed with that show. I still hadn't realized that I'd forgotten to lock my door. Again, let me emphasize, my lack of door-locking is really unusual. Suddenly, while I'm watching one of the chefs do something fancy with that ravioli cutter, my door opens and a little dog runs in followed by my CEO's boyfriend. I had already christened him "The Grunter" in my head.
Immediately, I can tell he is mortified because he's realized his mistake. He's one floor too low. Me...I'm amused. Now, if he'd have come in while I was changing into my pajamas, I would have been embarrassed. But, as it was, I just think it's funny. He doesn't. He tries to go but the dog won't leave. To be fair, it really wasn't The Grunter's fault. I know the dog does, for some reason, like to come to my door on a regular basis for some reason and he'd obviously just followed the dog. Yet though I try to chat to him, to make him a little less embarrassed, he just continues to mumble and beg the dog to go with him.
Finally, the dog leaves. So does he. If he had rubber on his feet, there would have been a burning smell. I immediately locked my door. Then checked it about nine times. I did hear My Own Personal Porno Soundtrack again later that night but, again, the wonder of earbuds is that they drown out noise.
I wasn't going to say anything in the office. After all, I felt sorry for The Grunter. However, he had other plans. He had to drop something off for our CEO the morning afterwards and when one of my coworkers let him into the office, he immediately asked if I was there. Thinking he wanted to talked to me, my coworker told him I was and to go on down. Apparently, he backed away slowly, went red and said, "NO! I'm avoiding her." Which, of course, led to the scampering of several pairs of feet to my office after he left to hear why he he might be avoiding me. Not a good way for him to be discreet.
I haven't seen my CEO since. She's been out of town. I think, like me, she's probably very amused. She's a fun lady and I know that she doesn't embarrass easily which is probably why she keeps her windows open when she and The Grunter do their thing. Aside from the fact that my overactive imagination wonders what happens if that loud thudding of the bed leads to a ceiling collapse and I'm crushed by the weight of two over-enthusiastic fifty-somethings, I don't care that I can hear them having sex; it's just more that, well, she's my CEO and that's a little weird.
So, it's been an interesting week. Aside from being stalked by large spiders who have invaded my home and forced me to attempt to scoop them up while trying not to squeal like a girl and drop them off my balcony back into the wilderness of the grass below, the house hunting and Grunter Invasion have been the most interesting parts. Work is going well, I'm going out with my old friend this weekend and I just came up with another idea for a short story. It doesn't involve a Grunter or someone who buys a house. Yet, now I'm thinking about it...I'm sure those things will work themselves into a fictional effort at some point. That's the beauty of being a writer; nothing is safe. I have this sweatshirt a good friend (and fellow novelist) gave me that says "Careful, you'll end up in my novel."
Grunter, you have been warned.
Grunter, you have been warned.