My room is trying to kill me. Had I read or watched The Shining, I would probably reference it and compare my room to the hotel? building? room? that The Shining took place in. But I can't.
So I'll just tell you how, after the massive, slippery, sticky blob yesterday, my room went a step farther. Today, light bulb committed suicide. I think it was a kamikaze sort of thing and it was trying to take me out. It did not just blow out, no, it actually dropped from the lamp and crashed onto the desk. And it took some melted metal stuff with it that has now cooled permanently on my laptop battery. And I can't quite put the lightbulb back because its ends are jagged and metally and weird. And I'm concerned that it's not quite dead and will leap off again at any second.
Very stressful time lately, lots of inanimate objects turning on me. Would not be surprised at all if tomorrow, wardrobe, desk, and chests alike all simultaneously lose their balance and collapse forward just in time to serve as kindling for the flames of the spontaneously combusted heater, right when I am trapped under the freak mattress that somehow bounced me under it, and we all know how flammable mattresses are, folks. I'm afraid to close my eyes or even just sit here for another second.
Not that I get to close my eyes any time soon, must figure out a way to crack through the borders of other Schengen countries. How does Austria sound to you?
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