Savannah, some sleaze..

So Saturday I enjoyed a lovely respite from the recent drudgery of Charleston life, not to mention our lusty houseguests (more on that later). I successfully invited myself to visit my friend Aleigh down in Savannah, and she kindly agreed to entertain me for a day. Just wandering around in another city (albeit one very similar to Charleston) was so invigorating! And how thoughtful of Chatham county to allow one to meander with a bloody mary in hand. It's so strange how at times I feel that I need travel in my life, that my perspective must change every so often so as not to get stale.

And despite my (ever-growing) disenchantment with my airline, I'm not ready to give up this particular career yet. If I were furloughed, I'd draw unemployment and go study literature. If not, I may as well stay for three and a half more years, at which time I'll be vested and able to receive retirement pay. But despite all the bullshit, you can't beat getting paid to flit about the globe. Really.

These houseguests, who consist of my male roommate's brother and his girlfriend, have woken me up with their bedroom antics for four mornings in a row. It's not so much the noise as the fact that our house is on pilings, so.. well.. lots of rocking of the casbah, so to speak. It's.. I mean, damn. It's gross.

In addition, the two of them somehow possess the utter inability to, upon leaving the house, close the front door once and just once. No, during their exits, that door may slam and reopen six or seven times. This is done with a blatant disregard for the no-loud-noises-before-10 a.m. rule. They treat this like a sleazy motel with cheap shower curtains that slimily stick to your legs and a dead whore under the bed. Oh, and speaking of showers? They like to use mine together. I'm forced to spray it down with Lysol before each use. Is it just me, or is this unrelentingly bad houseguest behavior? Yuck.