Sometimes I really wish my apartment came with a “mute” button. Our door isn’t a real door, it’s basically like a door that you would use for a set of French doors, glass panes and all that. Which means we can hear ABSOLUTELY everything going on the the kitchen and spare room, and the flatmates’ room if they leave the door open. Any convo they have in “regular” voices might as well be on the bed next to me, because I can hear every word. Dropped a fork? I heard it. Putting a poster on the wall with a thumbtack? Yup, that too. Makes it awfully hard to concentrate on all this important reading I need to do for volunteering, and nearly impossible for Ben to do his schoolwork. *sigh*


About krisawayfromhome

Back at home, but still a bit uneasy. Cooking my way to salvation?
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